Fabricated World
by Tkb4
Summary: 6 years have passed since Ib and Garry escaped the traumatic Fabricated World. Having no memory of what truly happened, 15 year old Ib lives freely while Garry is bound by his word. However, when Ib's friend, Rebekah, goes missing, and strange things begin to happen, Ib's own world is turned upside down as events of the past reveal themselves once more. Slight AU, Alternate Endings
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Something completely different and unexpected of me. I never thought I'd end up writing a fanfiction about this series (let alone NOT about Yaoi XD), but the idea spilled over and it was way too good to pass up.**

**For those who don't know, Ib is a game series made in an RPG maker or something and you play as a little girl lost in a freaky art gallery. It's a sort of horror, puzzle game and has different alternate endings. I recommend playing it, or at least watching Pewdiepie or ChaoticMonkey (Cry) on Youtube play it –w- I love it to bits, downloaded it a couple of days ago and can't stop replaying it to get the best ending.**

**Well, whatever. For anyone reading this, this fanfiction is AU (sorta) and based off the ending 'Memories Crannies', except Garry is the only one who remembers. Story stems from there, more characters are added in and old ones brought back. I really hope I can pull this off as good as I think I can, because the idea is way too awesome (not to toot my own horn or anything XD) to ruin.**

**Well anyways, this fic is slightly AU, with themes of Angst, Gore (not too much), Romance (not too much of that either), Drama, Angst and Comedy. Outside references will be made also.**

**As for shipping wise, go ahead and ship whatever you like. However, this fic DOES contain suggestive things for Ib x Garry, but only if you squint.**

**Disclaimer: This story I'm writing is in no way going to be used for profit, and all material goes to respected artists/authors. It's purely for entertainment purposes, and in no way does Ib or related material belong to me (Hellz yeah, I wish it did) ;w;**

**Okay, 'nuff of my rambling, and ONTO THE FANFICTION~!**

**Enjoy :D**

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**Chapter One, A Painting of a Red Rose**

_Dear Diary,_

_Sometimes I feel like I am still being watched, almost by a thousand eyes at once. Of course that's impossible; because this is the real world. Any trace of fabrication was left behind when I left that hellhole. But I still wonder, you know?_

_Even if it was erased, the experience and memories remain. Two sides of the same coin are where the pleasure and pain are stamped into place. To get rid of the horrifying nightmare, I would have to get rid of the one thing I cherish most as well._

_I could very well, just as easily as some, numb myself with alcohol and cigarettes (mind you, I quit years back), or even the occasional pill (and believe me, I have tried), but I find it better to leave the longing buzz in place._

_I wouldn't give it up for the world, the memory of her. She just means too much to me; which is stupid, because frankly she has no idea who I am. To her, I would just be a stranger she passes by in the street on her way to school, or a distant cloud to her sunny day._

_I sound too poetic, don't I? Yet, it comes naturally with all of the writing. I can't fathom what brought me to this state, to be forever in between giving up on hope or striving for it even harder. Nonetheless, even if it hurts, I don't mind. I'm content with just watching her grow._

_Or am I?_

_Well, I guess, Ib, maybe I'm just forever waiting._

_-Garry._

"They say that when we draw, or paint, or even write, is an expression of our most inner and deepest desires. Students, raise your pens, and draw what comes to mind; what feels right to you."

She lifted her hand, and steadily began to sketch. The pen made a clicking noise (due to the spiralling wire being slightly out of place) as she dragged it across the paper. First, she made a circle, and then joined it to a line, before finishing by adding four more straight lines poking out of the sides.

Before her eyes, a stick figure was born.

Very creative indeed.

Ib had to admit, the arts had never been her strong side. More formidable in sport, and surprisingly, science, she was an odd combination of both silently ambitious and fascinatingly ambiguous. She had always been a quiet girl, keeping to herself and being known throughout to be a wallflower of sorts.

Her only known friend was Rebekah McAllister, a girl who shed light upon Ib's dulling days. The two seemed to be inseparable from the first moment they laid eyes on one another at a Christmas party back when the former had just turned 10.

Complete and total opposites they were. Rebekah had a nice smile and inquisitive, sapphire eyes, while Ib seemed to be always frowning. Rebekah had curly blonde hair that bounced when she walked, while Ib's was brown and plain. Rebekah was loud, Ib was not. Rebekah had the potential to be popular; Ib wasn't ever going to be, even if she tried. The only, almost trademark trait that made Ib stand out from the rest (however not in the most positive light) was her bright red eyes.

Bright but as red as blood, they both shunned and drew people's attention. Some said she was cursed, others said they were fake; just contacts to make her seem cool. All in all, nobody had time to listen to a defence, but that was because Ib never tried.

She took it all as it came. She never complained about the inattention she received from others, or the fact that somebody else always took the best seat at lunch. She didn't even find the motivation to complain or face up to the rumours spread all around her.

She just didn't see any point.

And so, it was to be, that day after school, that she hadn't even thought to take it into consideration when Rebekah had asked, "So, do you know who your artist is going to be?"

Pulled from her thoughts, Ib stopped abruptly on the path, and inclined her head upwards, but only slightly. "What?" She asked, blinking in confusion.

Rebekah laughed. "Oh there you go, daydreaming once again! Hehe, Ib, that's too adorable."

_A daydreamer, huh? To think…_

"What does that have to do with what you asked me before?" She stated, matter-of-factly, crossing her arms in what looked like annoyance but was merely curiosity. As such, Rebekah knew that her friend wasn't as irritated as she looked.

"In Studio Studies, remember? Mrs Palen asked you to do an assignment on famous artists throughout history. I think you should do the famous photographer, David Hockney-"

"But he's a _photographer, _not an artist."

Rebekah scowled. "Well, I think photography is an art within itself, okay? And I'm pretty sure Mrs Palen meant for the class to choose anyone they wanted, regardless of their expertise. You know, someone you look up to? Sort of like an inspiration of sorts."

Ib remained still. An inspiration…

No one in particular came to mind, it seemed. She racked her brain for anyone she admired, anyone at all, just so she could have anywhere to start. But it came up nada, and she went to sigh, until a peculiar sort of memory flashed through her mind suddenly, leaving her feeling rather bizarre.

"_Welcome to the World of Guertena." We truly thank you for attending today. We're currently holding an exhibition for the great artist Weiss Guertena. We hope you deeply enjoy the art of the late Guertena, whose creations carry such mystery and beauty both._

She remembered attending the opening of an art gallery back when she was about nine years old. The gallery held an odd assortment of pieces, paintings and sculptures alike, from an artist called Guertena, who had been considered worldwide as "The Mad Painter."

Why he was considered as such, she didn't know, but she suddenly found herself eager to find out. While having read up on Guertena considerably throughout her years, she had never indulged because of her extreme lack of artistic skill. She had lost confidence within herself in that retrospect, and looked up to the Mad Painter for his ability to paint despite his credibility, to which he gained a redeemed reputation.

"I mean, photographers, dancers, singers, and all that…It's not fair if they aren't viewed like artists as well-"

"Weiss Guertena."

Silence.

"Uh, he's my choice…"

Rebekah looked as if she was about to walk off, perhaps from the fact that she had been cut off mid-sentence, but instead she stood right in front of Ib, with a kind of distant look on her face. "Do you know anything about him?"

"Kind of…" Ib confessed. "I'm no ace at this kind of thing, but he was a really famous artist back…not too long ago, actually. Maybe 80 years? And he was most famous for his work, the-"

"Abyss of the Deep. Yeah, I know."

Ib was a little stunned, but it was to be expected. After all, the older girl had a wider range of knowledge surrounding art and its stemmed categories. It was just another thing to add onto the list of the opposing traits they both held.

"My dad's really into his stuff…And by really, I mean…sometimes it's all he talks about…" Ib could see how much this was troubling Rebekah, because she was standing there with furrowed eyebrows and tight lips, looking at her and trying not to scowl. Ib had knowledge of this already, considering the main source of information about Guertena she received was from Dr Ryan Mcalister.

"Well, that's great!" Ib tried a smile, and a reassuring wave of the hand, trying to dismiss Dr Mcalister's eerie fascination of the topic that seemed to completely unnerve his daughter. "You could really help me out then…We could work together on the project, and get higher marks that way!" The positive staunch didn't hold for long, however, and Ib lowered her hand, kicking at the gravel absentmindedly.

"You know, forget about-"

"Okay, we'll do it." Rebekah sighed, brushing a few curls from her face and tapping her foot in response.

Ib's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, seriously? For a minute there…"

"It's not a problem, really. Come on, we've wasted enough time just standing here; I'm pretty sure your parents are worried about you." And with that, she picked up her heels and began to walk, forcing Ib to almost trip over her feet as she hurried along after her friend.

In the distance, the sun was already beginning to set, painting the sky a rather unsettling orange. Or perhaps it only seemed unsettling because of the events that had just taken place prior. Nevertheless, once they parted ways, Ib walked back home the preferred way; along a train line that was long but abandoned, near a station that accompanied the rugged scenery as well.

Afterwards, she would turn left, come out through the trees and her large, stone-white home was just at the end of the lane, shining brightly in all of its proud valour. Her neighbourhood was scarce at this time of evening, unless it was on weekends which were when the neighbours held garden parties to commemorate whatever high status they achieved in the same week as buying a new car.

Living in the banks that held a posh air was a little suffocating for Ib, and she was thankful for the freedom her parents gave to her, despite their naturally preserved and protective resolution. She passed by the Mason's large home, with their etiquette, neatly cut lawn and trees shaped like birds, and then by the Parson's, who were famous for their religious ways.

Finally turning the corner and looking up at the house, she saw her father on the roof. Of course, Ib and her family were considered an odd bunch, but that didn't matter much. After all, her parents were more the hands on sort of type rather than the, 'sit back and watch the peasants do all my work for me' kind of thing.

In recognition of the saying, her father was replacing a tile that had come loose during a storm. When he saw his daughter pass through the driveway, he raised an eager hand to wave, but dropped his screwdriver as he did so.

Ib stepped out of the way as it rolled off the roof and came clanging down beside her. She rolled her eyes, scooped it up and proceeded to make her way inside. What he needed with a screwdriver while fixing a loose tile was beyond her (it was actually just part of the collection of tools he happened to carry whenever he was on the job, regardless of whether or not they were needed), and she simply put it in her bag so she wouldn't forget about it later on.

For now, she just needed to lie down. She made her way upstairs, greeting her mother with a wave, before closing her bedroom door behind her. With her bag sinking to the floor, Ib flopped down onto her bed with a strained yet satisfied groan, smothering herself in the woollen sheets with a faint smile. It was the simple things like this that pleased her the most; just relaxing on this bed while the waning sun washed away the problems of the day…

Suddenly, the alarm beside her bed began to go off, quite loudly, and she almost hissed at it in contempt, before realizing that it was 5:30 and rather, the most important time of the day. She quickly rolled off her bed, landing on her floor with a thud, and scrambled up towards her desk, reaching out blindly for an object. When her fingers wrapped around a small radio, Ib smiled in triumph, before flicking it on just to hear the starting lyrics to a song;

"There she waits, for me, and I wonder if I'm dreaming.

Is this really, another life that I am seeing?

Can this withered rose bloom, in the face of all the doom?

Yes, I'm sure it can, when the red rose is in bloom…"

Ib smiled and began to sing along, albeit quietly so as not to let her mother hear. There was a moment as the smooth guitar came in, and instead she began to hum. A few months back, an anonymous artist had started to write and record his own songs, before submitting them into various radio stations until they became rather popular amongst the people and all throughout the town.

What the best part about it was though, was that he didn't even expect to be paid. He did it solely for his own enjoyment, and so much so that others had begun to do it as well. There was a flood of new music coming in, and the companies decided to make another radio channel solely for these independent and anonymous artists.

But it was always at 5:30pm, on each and every night that they would play a handful of songs made by the First Anonymous, who was simply known as Fa. Red Rose had been his first, and Ib was lucky to have caught it just as it started. By far it was her favourite song of his, yet it came close to being tied with Marvelous Night and Worry. After the song ended, she simply lay down and listened to the next one as it began to play.

It was at that moment that she came to realize something. Fa, was an inspiration. He was exactly the kind of considerate person Ib looked up to, and he was an artist in his own right. It was only too bad there was too little information to come up with a viable project of sorts that would help her pass the standard grade.

It was, just sometimes, she wished she could meet someone just like him.

_I wonder if we could ever meet again._

_-End of chapter one-_

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**Haha, well! I think this turned out kind of swell :'D**

**Excuse me for the input of Rebekah, and for the kind of…'corniness' this really is, but if you've managed to read this far then kudos!**

**Don't worry. Rebekah isn't some mary (hah) sue chick who will get in the way of the storyline or fall in love with Gary NAH. NAH NAH NAH I HATE CHARACTERS LIKE THAT, AND DON'T EVER EXPECT THERE TO BE ANY FROM ME (Canon x Oc gives me the heeby jeebies). She is important, however. Pretty important, so don't deter because of her bubbly personality.**

**On another note, I apologize for the slight OOCness of (maybe) Ib and Garry, but it's my first time writing in their POV's and everything gets explained and blerp.**

**R&R would be much appreciated. Constructive criticism as well, but if flames happen I SHALL DESTROY YOU –w-**

**~Tkb4.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I am getting the hang of titling these chapters XD This one is 'Forgotten Portrait', after one of the endings where Garry's own painting is put in place of the Hanged Man after Ib escapes from the Fabricated World alone. I thought it fitted more than the Hanged Man because of the fact that he was forgotten?**

**Get it? Did I kill your feels? No? Well then.**

**Lol, I kidd. But finally, this chapter will be Garry-focussed, mainly, and I really hope to capture the essence of his character correctly.**

**Well, onto it, I suppose XD**

**Enjoy~ ^^**

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**Chapter Two, Forgotten Portrait**

"And, we come to stand, against the face of our doubt,

But, my Red Rose, our days to stand are left to count.

Pulling ourselves along and under, over and through,

All I ever wanted was to protect you."

A static interference cut between the words, and he banged down on the radio in frustration. It sputtered for a moment, before continuing on the way it did before, and he sighed in defeat, sinking back down onto his sofa with an irritated groan.

It always seemed that Fa outdid himself, but would it do to hurt himself over trying to listen to just one song? Garry admired the anonymous artist, through and through, to be able to carry over his emotions through song but still remain completely faceless and proud. It was something, the same confidence, which he could never carry.

Just plain old Garry, a 23 year old bachelor who didn't have much going for him besides his looks. Okay, scratch that. His strange, unique sense of fashion and shaggy purple hair that looked like an upturned flower only made him that much more of an outcast. Aside from barely having enough money to spend on the newest trends, he sometimes had to make it through the day on just ramen alone.

But at least his job had its perks. He was able to go sightseeing, and gain a decent amount of exercise as a result. That was only because he didn't have a car, which would've really come in handy on the job (if he knew how to drive one). Speaking of, he worked as a pizza delivery boy (man), and at the pet shelter down the road whenever he had the free time.

With what little spare time he had, he spent it listening to the radio and reading heroic novellas, sometimes even watching an anime or two if he could. That being said, Garry feared that if he didn't pull himself out of this rut very soon, he might just die of boredom.

With an instigated grunt from being pulled out of his thoughts as soon as the radio presenter's voice reached his ears, he took to his feet and walked into the kitchen, almost knocking over a pile of papers by the door as he went. Naturally clumsy he was, but today in particular he really didn't care.

Opening his fridge and peering inside, he found an almost bare sight reach his eyes. Aside from a jar of pickles that he didn't dare to touch, and a single can of cola, there was just a carrot sitting in the far reaches at the back. Leaning forward, he swiped it in his hands and brought it to eye level.

"Bogus." He muttered, and took a bite, not even bothering to look around for a peeler. However, instead of collapsing back onto the couch as he normally would have, he prompted himself to stay standing.

Checking his calendar mounted on the wall nearby, he was suddenly overjoyed. "Today is Wednesday…Which means…" There was a special off of prices in the meat section of the supermarket today! Almost jumping in joy, he binned the carrot, pulled on his favourite coat (worn and torn away from years of use), slipped his wallet into his pocket and took to the streets with his head held high.

Walking past the local fishmongers, and being greeted with a hiss from the local cat (he hissed back just as fiercely, and with just as much conviction) he took a left and found himself standing just outside the large store. His stomach growled eagerly, and he waltzed inside rather happily, receiving a glance or two his way that he was all but used to by now.

He made his way up and down the aisles, and spent no more than fifteen minutes deciding upon what to eat later on. As he was placing down a jar of chocolate spread amongst the other groceries sitting neatly in his basket, he suddenly heard an all too familiar voice, coming from only a few feet behind him.

"And so I picked Weiss Guertena. Do you remember back when-"

"Yes dear, back when you were just a little girl and we all visited the art gallery together. Of course I remember; we all had a splendid time and went to that café afterwards. For some strange reason you were so insistent on having those macarons…"

"Yeah, I know, you've told me that a gazillion times, mom! We didn't even get those, because you said they were too expensive…-"

There was a very loud crash to follow, and a sharp cry of pain as Garry walked into a stack of cans, causing them to tumble and fall on top of him. He was crushed by the weight of canned beans, turnips and beetroot, and he lay momentarily stunned from the impact.

There was a moment of silence; somewhere in the distance he thought he heard somebody laughing at his ridiculous fall, but it was only when he felt some of the weight being lifted off of him that he became more aware of his surroundings.

Looking upwards, he came face to face with a girl, her red eyes widened and a panicked look stricken across her face. "A-Are you okay?" She stammered, looking alarmed at the fallen man. For a moment, he couldn't say a word. He just stared.

This was the closest…In 6 years...Oh god, he must've looked like a fool.

"Uh, here's your nutella…" Ib cleared away the last of the cans, before handing it to him rather awkwardly, but it just fell like dead weight from his frozen hands. Before she could ask what the matter was, he shuffled backwards, and clumsily stood, knocking over more cans from the stand as he went.

"Yeah thanks…" He muttered in return, cradling what was left of his groceries in his arms before placing them back inside of the basket. Before he could say another word, however, he found himself almost sprinting away, quickly paying for his food before hurrying out of the door like a frightened animal.

Ib looked around wildly, trying to spot where he might've gone, until a store clerk came over and demanded she picked up the mess the older man had left behind.

"Well how rude." Her mother mused, scowling and helping her daughter to clear the floor. During it, however, Ib wasn't pondering on the matter at hand and to how rude it may have seemed.

No, she found herself very curious, to know who that man might've been. It almost felt like…

Garry slammed the door shut behind him, allowing himself to sink to the floor to take a couple of deep breaths. His groceries dropped down beside him, and he just let them fall, looking up at the ceiling with an almost tired gaze.

It had been almost six years that they had been apart, with no real contact at all. Six years didn't seem very long, but it was an agonizing stretch of time for somebody having to wait that long. Especially him.

He, who didn't have enough confidence like Fa to stand up to his fears. He, who, in the back of his stupid little mind, believed there could be any hope left of her actually remembering. It was just one of the many sick twists that fate had in store for him, but by far this seemed to be perhaps the worst.

It made sense; the fact that she never really needed him from the beginning. He was really just a hazard, in or out of the Fabricated World, to anyone and everything, but especially to her. It made sense, that, the memory didn't remain because she would be fine without him.

The only thing he could think of being any use for was moving statues about. But Ib was a smart girl, and probably could have, in the end, found a way to get around them…maybe. She really was just a small girl, back then; tiny compared to the horrors that had waited for them inside of the painting world.

He was actually kind of grateful that she didn't remember, regardless of the circumstances. Who in their right mind, aside from himself (who really hadn't been in his right mind to begin with), would actually want to remember what went on inside of that world? Either way, that made him a selfish person. Who was he to decide whether or not if she wanted or should have remembered the past?

And who was he to decide whether he should have been a part of her life in the first place?

It was really just a turntable of regret, reminiscence and remembrance, a constant cycle that pitted his choices against his morale input, and made him second guess everything he ever thought about.

Placing his head into his hands, he sat there in silence.

That night, he didn't eat.

Garry didn't think he would sleep, let alone dream. His slumber was filled with sorrowful pleas, hands reaching out towards his curled up frame and a constant tune being whispered into his ear.

"Mary had a little lamb, its fleece as white as snow. And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb was sure to go…~"

He woke with a gasp, and found himself soaked in a puddle of his own sweat. The familiar yet eerie sound of her voice seemed, unlike on the other occasions that it was heard in his nightmares, closer than ever. It was as if the person who had spoken was right next to him as he slept…

Garry slid out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom, flicking on the pale, luminescent light as he went. He bent over the sink, checking his reflection in the circular and cracked mirror set on the wall in front of him.

His bare torso gleamed, slick with anxious perspiration, and his hair hung soaked to his scalp. His sapphire blue eyes were rimmed with shadows, indicating lack of sleep, and he simply sighed, turning the tap and feeling rather reassured at the sight of running water.

There was a corralling sense of dread overwhelming him, but he held it at bay. In the late hours of the night, unnecessary thoughts were expected to crawl upon the individual as they awoke. It was only a natural occurrence that accompanied the aftermath of a nightmare; anyone knew this.

But alas, a nightmare was a nightmare, unless it was once lived. And for Garry, the rather traumatic instances that had happened 6 years prior had yet to fade from his mind, but so hadn't she.

To count, the pleasure was worth the pain, once again.

He made it through the morning on a piece of toast alone, but had to skip lunch due to work calling him in two hours before he expected. He pulled on the required shirt with distaste, pulled the cap over his head and headed out the door.

After making his usual rounds, and receiving a lucky $25 tip from one of the regulars, Garry was about to head on back home until his wristwatch began to go off, a little unexpectedly. That was until, he remembered, he had set it to go off at exactly 4:45pm that very day.

Biting his lip and cursing under his breath, he simply stood in place, warranted by the fact that he might just miss out on the scheduled instance, but after yesterday's meeting he wasn't so sure that he could see her again so soon.

"…Tomorrow." He promised himself, before taking to another walk back in the direction of where he lived.

_Sometimes I feel too obsessed. Then again, I don't even like that word. It makes me sound a little like a stalker, and I like to think I'm far from it._

_I mean, I don't randomly ring her up at night or peer at her house through the bushes like one. Heck, I don't even know her telephone number, and besides, I'm allergic to shrubbery. They give me terrible rashes, which is why I stay away from florists most of the time._

_I didn't want to see her today because…what if she notices me? We've finally met again, but it wasn't really in the best of situations…I CAN really say that I feel CANNED just thinking about it._

_Heh, good use of puns, no?_

…_Righto, night._

_-Garry._

_-End of Chapter 2-_

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**I think that might've been a terrible ending to this chapter, but it makes sense in the next one. Eh, sorry for lack of…I dunno. I just feel like it's lacking something (that isn't the Garry-esqueness); something like more detail or…Blerp. Blerpy blerp blerp. It's so HARD writing in their POV'S! ;A;**

**Not to mention I don't do with short chapters, but then again, this is good practice for me. I hope you enjoyed it guys, and keep on reading until the next instalment.**

**Ciao~**

**~Tkb4.**

**(R&R please? NO FLAMES OR I SHALL BURN YOU LIKE IB BURNS MARY'S PAINTING. HISSSSSSSSSSSSS).**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Haha, I kind of know that people really don't care what I put into these Author's Notes (most of the time?) but I understand how Garry feels.**

**You know, the fact that he wants so bad to be a part of her life but ends up making a fool of himself, and he fears that he might just stuff it up even more if he interacts with her again. Not that he makes much difference in the first place, what with her memory loss and all, but that's exactly the point. Eh, Garry, perhaps you'll get there, if you make the right choices.**

**That aside, I really do put my whole into what I write. My emotions, lingering regrets and feelings and all that emotional junk…It usually spurs the story and determines the ending; depending on my mood and experiences. Gweh, does every writer do that? And do they worry that it might corrupt the storyline if they do?**

**Nonetheless, I do it naturally, so sorry if it seems a little too depressive or whatever for your fancy. But it's just how it is. *slaps myself* ENOUGH IS ENOUGH TB STAHP.**

**(^Depressive thing over): This chapter is Ib-centric once again, though Garry will be here and there. Towards the end is a major turning point in the plotline, so stay tuned everybody ^^**

**Eh, enjoy~ ^^;**

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**Chapter Three, Your Dark Figure**

They lived on a portside town, just north of the countryside and beside the sea. Abundant with tourists, it was known for its rather exotic nature, despite being located in the United Kingdom. It held an air of festivity on some nights, similar to a tropical island, but not as extreme.

The summers and winters alike were harsh; however a cold front would sometimes rapidly change the temperatures between. As such, the weather was unpredictable at some points of time. Today was no exception. Ib had come prepared, of course, because the weather forecast tended to be the opposite of what the presenter normally said.

She was donned in a bright red raincoat, one specifically picked out by her mother to match her eyes, and carrying an umbrella as she walked. Rebekah was skipping along beside her, freely allowing the rain to soak her exposed face. The girl seemed unusually happy today, despite the dreary weather, and she turned to her friend with a smile. "Isn't this great?" She chorused, but Ib's face remained expressionless in reply as she simply shook her head.

Scowling, Rebekah's skipping faltered, and she simply walked under the umbrella, preventing herself from further drenching. They turned a fork in the road, and began to climb the hill. All around, the rain continued to fall, soaking everything in its midst. It created large puddles that reflected the greying skies, and the atmosphere felt as if it were all being washed down a drain, leaving behind no comprehending colours to the day.

Such a depressing state left Ib a little numb, and she continued to trudge through the never ending storm until they reached the school's entrance. Filing through the gate amongst a crowd of other students, they lined up outside of the assembly hall, ready for the morning briefing.

Throughout, Ib sat in silence, staring at the ground and absentmindedly pressing her fingers together in no particular rhythm. The headmaster briefed the school about the torrential weather that day, and warned the children not to go outside of the appropriate areas.

After the morning classes, recess came duly, and Ib stood in the foyer with Rebekah and a couple of their classmates. While they chatted away, Ib and Rebekah were left to eat in silence, however she didn't mind. She was content with listening to the rain as it pelted against the roof-panes and caused the old building to shudder. It was somehow relaxing, when it wasn't pouring all over her.

The bell rang, and eating time was over. Ib began to shuffle off to her violin lesson, until Rebekah stopped her short in her tracks.

There was a rather awkward moment of silence, and then Rebekah gave Ib the biggest smile she could muster. "Ib? Can we go and play outside in the rain?"

What on earth? She was rather perplexed as to what had brought this on, but nonetheless, Rebekah blinked those eyes of hers and tilted her head as if to make the proposal all that more convincing.

"Come outside with me." This time it wasn't a request, and Ib pulled away, shaking her head for the second time that day. "Aw…But why? Everyone else has gone. It's just you, and me."

Something was definitely off. Rebekah was the obnoxious and pushy type at times, yes, but there was to be no particular reason why she was acting so…childish. Though Rebekah sometimes had spontaneous outbursts like this, the blonde knew Ib's boundaries and what to respect. This was the first time she had sounded so…menacing, in the way she'd addressed Ib's name.

To say the least, it made her a little uneasy.

"No Rebekah. I've got to go to class…"

"…Oh. Okay."

And without another word, Ib swivelled on her heel and almost jolted down the hallway, but not as fast as she wanted, leaving the other girl behind. She burst out into the rain, and almost took to a run, but slowed herself down for her own sake.

There wasn't anything wrong, or so she hoped. She was just being ridiculous, it seemed, but for some reason, the chilling rain wasn't what was making her shudder so violently. Resenting the fear, and keeping her head held high, she pushed through the doors and into the music building, a little too fast, causing a nearby staff member to gasp in too much of astonishment. "Ms Andrea-Rose! You're completely soaked! And what on earth was with that entrance?"

Ib was about to walk on by, but she stood her ground, turning to face the older woman with a completely blank expression. "I'm sorry, Miss…"

"Too right you are. Now hurry and dry yourself off; you're late, once again, for your lesson."

"Yes Miss…"

Having found a towel in a nearby broom closet (and yet only scarcely drying herself down), she was standing near the window, a violin tucked in the crook beneath her neck and resting on her shoulder. As she played, she was off key, just as she had expected, and the familiar sound of the wrong chords as well as the teacher's berating fell on deaf ears.

She really hadn't a clue as to why her parents had even given her these lessons to begin with. If they believed it somehow made her seem more 'regal' and 'proper', then they had it all wrong (while in reality they had provided it as an outlet from her worrisome issues). Because no matter how hard she played, the sound always seemed to come out imperfect, and even though she knew her chords, it really didn't matter. She didn't mind her performance, more of the fact that she rather enjoyed the sensation of playing at all.

Trying to focus, the sound of the rain pounded inside of her skull, and unknowingly, she began to play a storm. Even more unfocused and static, she played even harder in accordance to the noise, and for each note that fell, it drove her even louder.

That was, until, the teacher forcefully yanked the instrument out of her arms and told her straight to her face that she was hurting it's feelings, by playing so badly, and if she kept it up, then she might have killed it's poor soul. Now, that was complete nonsense, for an object could have no soul, or even emotion for that matter.

…Was a soul needed for emotion at all?

Perhaps they were one and the same, but today, aside from the music lesson and Rebekah's strange behaviour, she really couldn't see any magic in the day. It was just as cold and robotic as the motion usually went, but even more cold from the chill.

Sport was a disaster; she had accidentally thrown a ball into somebody else's face, and tripped and cut her knee on some thorns. Badly. She had to sit out in the nurse's office for the rest of the lesson, wincing in pain as the nurse examined it to make sure it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

She liked the nurse, who went by the name of Wayne. He was a cool, collected individual with his own unique air about him. He was instantly likeable by almost everyone in the school, and despite not being a counsellor, many a student and staff went to him about all sorts of problems (leaving the actual school counsellor out of business some days).

With a warm smile, he tirelessly bandaged her knee. "So, Ib, what's up? You seem less chatty today than usual."

Ib was surprised, and pulled out of her mindless stupor, bringing herself to attention so she could try and address the older man with a smile. It didn't work.

"So I was right?"

"It's nothing…"

"Oh come now." He chorused, sitting down on the bed beside her. "It's never 'nothing' with you kids these days. However, coming from you, it IS a little strange…"

That she had issues? What was so strange about a person having issues? Noted, Wayne was specifically trained to deal with somebody like her. It was a precaution the school had taken ever since she had first attended.

"I'm fine."

"Fine enough to be feeling down all day?"

"…I'll be fine." She silenced him by turning her head away, seemingly stubbornly but it was just an act of polite courtesy to stop the questioning. Wayne got the message, sighed briefly, and then stood, opening the door and gently guiding her out into the hallway. "Keep off that leg, y'hear? No roughhousing or running today."

"Will do." She muttered, giving a small wave, before turning to leave.

"Oh, and Ib?"

"…?"

"Be careful not to get yourself hurt, okay?"

She left without another word. Hurt? What did he mean by that? Even more hurt than her knee already was…?

She wasn't THAT careless, but then again, is that really what he meant…?

Lunch came just as expected as recess did, but this time, Ib was left all alone. As she bit into a rosy apple, she looked around, and found something to be quite off with the scenery. Still the rain fell, but Rebekah was nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps she was off doing her own thing, but after this morning's behaviour and the fact that Rebekah had never missed spending a day with her, she was a little more than worried. However, she didn't feel any need to go looking for the girl. It wasn't because she didn't care, no (that's what the worry was for); but it was simply because it wasn't any of her business.

What Rebekah did was fine. After all, Ib didn't have to be her number one priority. Still, it left Ib a little like a hollow, empty shell. It was just, she couldn't remember the last time she had felt so alone.

After school had ended, Ib found Rebekah standing by the gate, waiting for her like she usually did when the day came to a close. She simply smiled, and ran up to her friend with the normal warm composure that Ib was so familiar with. "Ready to go home?" She asked, and Ib was kept standing in place from her own surprise.

"…Ib?"

"Y-Yeah…"

They began to walk, and this time Rebekah hunched under the umbrella with her, pouting a little as the rain pounded down even harder. "Geez, why couldn't your mom come and pick us up or something?"

"…"

"Ib?"

"S-She has to work tonight…"

Suddenly, she felt herself being pulled to a stop, and she felt an unfamiliar sense of hostility as Rebekah's hand curled around hers. She went to yank away, not being used to the sensation, but her friend held her in place, forcing her to look upwards and at her face.

Her green-blue eyes were laced with concern, and a prominent frown set her features in place. "Are you okay…?" She asked rather gently, and Ib felt her knees shake, but only slightly.

"F-Fine…"

"You don't seem it…"

What the hell was going on? It was as if Rebekah wasn't affected by her own behaviour this morning. It was like, it didn't even happen, or at least she didn't remember anything about it…

"It's just the rain. And my knee…My knee! It really hurts."

"Huh." Rebekah bent down and prodded Ib's bandaged knee with a steady finger, causing the younger girl to wince slightly as the pain crawled up her sodden leg. "Sorry…" Rebekah apologised, letting go of Ib's hand and taking to another walk.

"Wayne told me you fell over in gym class today. Sorry I wasn't there to help…"

"W-What're you talking about?" Ib managed to hide her small stammer, but only just. "You're not even in the same class as me."

"I know. I meant, like…during it, I guess…"

"You couldn't have done anything…" Ib tried to sound reassuring, but her voice fell flat and monochrome. "I'll be fine. Anyway, it's just a little scratch…"

"Ah okay…"

What if Ib had only imagined it…? What if she was just overreacting?

She couldn't afford to do something like that, considering the circumstances. Rebekah was fine, she was sure. It was just her own stupid insecurities getting to her this time…

The rain fell steadily harder, and the gale-force winds picked up heavily, causing Ib's hair and the umbrella to whip about uncontrollably. They kept on going in silence, until there was a blaring noise and they spotted multi-coloured lights flashing up against a wall.

"Clear the area! There has been a minor flooding incident down by the shoreline, and for your own safety, we advise you to keep well away! Citizens of-" A policeman was standing in front of a yellow and black fence-line, using his police car megaphone to warn a crowd of people and students about the hazardous conditions ahead.

"Ah crap!" Rebekah shouted over the rain, standing in place as the warning continued to echo around them.

"What do we do now?" Ib shouted in reply, trying to cover her face but to no avail.

"We could try calling my dad or something!" The blonde whipped out her phone, but her face grew even more restless. "What the hell? There's no damn service!"

"Let me give it a try." Ib tried her own, but she too came up with a dead end. She even tried dialling the number, but soon put it back into her bag for fear of it becoming soaked and unusable. The two girls just stood still, until Rebekah took a turn and began to go down an unfamiliar and rather narrow street nearby.

"Hey, where are you going!?" Ib cried, jogging up beside her friend, but the blonde didn't stop. Instead she replied, "This way goes back to my house. It goes through that weird, narrow alley we saw the homeless guy in once, and it's not that far."

"But what if-"

"We'll be fine, Ib! I promise!" Rebekah flashed her a reassuring smile, and continued to plough ahead. Ib was conflicted, afraid of going forward into the unknown, or going back to find nothing; but denying her usual gut instinct, she followed along after her friend.

They continued on for fifteen minutes, and eventually rounding another corner, they came to a secluded alleyway that was half sheltered from the wind and hail. "You doing okay, Ib?" Rebekah sighed, shaking her head and sending droplets spraying about.

"Yeah, I'm okay. But what about you?"

That was a lie. The weather's rapid descent had finally caused fear to grasp its steady hands around her throat, and she bit her lip in an attempt to keep herself from crying out a little in despair. She was alone, she was scared, terrified, what would-

"Huh?"

"Are you okay, Rebekah?" Ib rung out the ends of her matted hair, and scowled at the sight of her fingers that were shaking too much to do any help. Damn, like she could trust her body let alone the weather…

"…"

"It's way too c-cold out here…Let's just hurry up and-"

"Am I okay, Ib?"

"…?" She slowly turned to her friend, who was curled over as if to catch her breath, with her back facing her. Her face was overshadowed by her hair, and she didn't make any inclination of moving.

"W-Wha…?"

"I said, am I okay? You don't have to look so frightened…"

Ib took a step back, dropping her umbrella as she went. Her eyes widened in fear as Rebekah's arms suddenly hung limp by her sides, however she was still bent over like a ragdoll. She then slowly raised her head and arms, but it was as if she was being pulled by an unnatural force, almost like a puppet on strings.

It seemed so…grossly disfigured, that if Ib wasn't rooted to the spot by the sheer intensity of fright, she would have taken to a run right then and there. It was confirmed, when there was a sickening crack, and Rebekah finally stopped rising, until she cracked her head to the side, and her face was revealed.

An almost evil, twisted grin overshadowed her normally placid and happy features, but what was the most chilling were her eyes. They were an intense, cold, icy blue, devoid of any sign of life or soul; an image that dug its way into Ib's mind, and made her think of only one thing.

This wasn't Rebekah.

It couldn't be…! It was just too…inhuman…too monstrous…too fractured and dead to be anything but…!

"I've missed you so much, Ib…" The thing's voice echoed, creating a perpetual, almost demonic picture, and it slowly and awkwardly made its way towards her. Ib's every sense was screaming at her to bolt, but despite the clammy feeling of melancholy sinking into every pore, she found she still couldn't move a muscle. Those dead eyes were fixed onto hers, and she couldn't look away.

She noticed a glimmer from the corner of her eye, and mustered every ounce of strength she had to incline her head towards the source. In Rebekah's hand was a sharpened palette knife, and Ib had only a moment to see her reflection before the blade came swinging in her direction.

It was then that everything went dark.

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_-End of Chapter 3-_

**Holy fuck, I didn't think I would write anything so creepy towards the end x_x;;; Then again, that's what I get for waking up at 5am and continuing to write this because I was as bored as hell DX**

**But yeaaaaaaaah. 10 points for anyone that guesses what happens next.**

**R&R? And no flames or I feed you to the Rebekah monster. XD**

**~Tkb4.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: And wahey~! I'm back with another chapter, and this time I'm not so depressive with the Author's Notes. Sorry for them last time; I'll try and avoid them from now on. However, this chapter I've been looking forward to writing (even though I've been writing them consecutively and I only started them a couple of days ago) for a while when it was still in planning, so uhhhh yah. Here you go guys. I hope you enjoy~ ^^**

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**Chapter Four, The Smoking Gentleman**

There was a very brief moment in time when everything just…flashed before her eyes. It was very swift, a thousand images zooming and rushing past her like a vortex, and for a moment she thought she was going to fall into the never-ending abyss once more.

She expected pain, and lots of it. But she only felt warmth as something, almost protectively, wrapped itself around her. Was this what death felt like? Was it as comforting as she felt; or was it merely a delusion she had conjured to blot out the reality of the situation?

That was when she became aware of her own, gushed breathing, and the rain still pouring around her. Focussing back into life, she noticed that she was being shielded; or at least she had been pulled out of harm's way and was now being cradled against somebody protectively.

There was a hand covering her eyes, and she felt the chest of her…saviour(?) (captor?) rise and fall against her back as they breathed just as heavily as she. Everything was silent, and strangely peaceful, until a bloodcurdling scream erupted over the sound of the storm.

It was an unnatural shriek that caused Ib to give a startled whimper as the fear came rushing back in. It wasn't over yet.

"Oh god…" She heard a somewhat familiar voice reach her ears, and she inclined her head to see where it was coming from, but the steady hands grasping her kept her in place. "…You've really got to be more careful, Ib..."

The voice was coming from the person behind her, and it sounded distinctly male, though light and well mannered, strangely enough for the situation at hand. "Wayne?" She tried to reach out, rather impulsively, but the figure merely gave a breathless laugh and she felt herself turn.

"Close enough….I guess…But this is just…" She was then yanked gently in the other direction, and she was free from the slightly sanctioned grip, however it was shifted to her hand instead. She heard the sound of Rebekah's knife falling to the ground, and almost expected the crazy girl to chase after them predatorily, but when she looked back she found that the creature had disappeared entirely.

"W-Where…?"

"Don't worry…I'll get you somewhere safe…please don't be afraid…please…"

The figure pulling her along quickened his pace, and Ib almost tripped over her feet as they went. Out of the alley and back into the storm, their pace never ceased. They continued to move, full pelt, for a couple of minutes, until they suddenly slowed to a stop, and she found herself looking up at a cluttered mess of rundown buildings.

Throughout the entire time they had been running, her thoughts had been erratic and incomprehensible. Heck, the entire situation was incomprehensible, and for that fact, Ib didn't know what to do. And then it dawned on her.

She had been saved by someone…from a creature that took the guise of her best friend. Her eyes widened in surprise; she still didn't know who had pulled her out of harm's way (she hadn't had a chance to even look, let alone…thank).

She turned her head to the person, who was hunched over trying to catch his breath in the position that Rebekah had been in only moments before. "Well this is strange…I've seemed to have lost my way…now what's the quickest way down to the-"

"Y-You!"

"…M-Me? What about me…?"

"You're the…"

It was the man from the supermarket store! The man who had walked into the cans and left them behind for Ib and her mother to pick up, and that was only the day before!

He straightened up, stretching only slightly, and held out his shaking hand. "Garry, at your service. Sorry I didn't get to introduce myself last time. I was a bit, eh, preoccupied…"

Ib didn't return the gesture. She simply stared, goggle-eyed, at the older man, who was soaked to the bone, but still managing to keep a polite smile on his face. "…Right. Well, this is a little-Hey, OW!"

She punched him fair and square in the stomach, and stumbled backwards down the stairs. She tripped over her feet, however, and went tumbling down, whacking her head on the concrete as she went.

"Uh, woah hey! T-Take it easy!" Garry nimbly climbed down beside her, but Ib simply flailed her arms about, trying her hand at self-defence. She nicked him in the shoulder, and he pressed back only slightly, but her attempts were becoming weaker until she found she couldn't lift her hands at all.

"M-Mm…Y-You're completely soaked, and in shock…T-Try and calm down a little, I'm not going to hurt you…"

"No…get…a-away…" Was all she managed to utter before surrendering to the dark.

.:Fabricated|World:.

"Hey, are you awake…? Take it nice and easy now..." She heard his voice, as distant as it seemed, before she noticed anything else. Her eyes fluttered open, but everything was a haze.

She was surrounded by warmth however, and resting against something soft. "I know it's not much, but I tried to dry your hair best as I could, and your bag is over by the heater. Can I get you anything, like tea or coffee or…?"

"Who are you?" Ib managed to whisper. Everything hurt; her arms, her legs (especially her damaged knee) but worst of all, her head. She had the biggest headache she could remember. She felt very ill, but at least the impending chill from the rain had mostly gone away. Her clothes were still damp, however, but there wasn't much she could do about that.

"Oh…! U-Um…I said before that my name was-"

"No…!" Ib groaned, clutching her aching head in her hands. "I mean…"

"You're wondering…why I saved you?"

"…Y-Yeah…How could you have…"

Garry smiled, a little tiredly. "I was just passing by…And you were…" His eyes suddenly became distant and they narrowed a little in a harrowing concern. "I-I couldn't just…"

"W-Why…"

This time, he frowned a little, considering what to say in response to such a situation. "Because…You were about-…listen, you shouldn't talk so much-"

"Where are we?" Ib's head was pounding, but she still wasn't out of this mess. Having never really met…Garry before, she was still at risk of being in danger, despite the older man having saved her life. As much as logic denoted that, she still felt that somehow, this wasn't truly the case.

Along with the pain clinging to the inside of her skull, she felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia and warmth in regards to his voice. It made the gears inside of her brain turn, and she had the deepest urge to uncover the origins of these emotions, but she was pushed out of her mind the second she tried.

"Uh, my house…It was the closest place I knew of, actually, so I'm sorry I couldn't get better accommodation…"

Ib opened her eyes. Her vision eventually settled to reveal a plain white room. She was seated on a rather dingy sofa, and wrapped in a coverless doona. There was a small television set on a coffee table in front of her, and one or two bookshelves lined the walls. With the paint peeling off, and massive amounts of paper spread out all over the floor, Ib realised she must've been housed in a rather run down place, something she definitely wasn't very used to.

"Here…" Garry handed her a cup of what looked like tea, but Ib wanted to refuse. After all, accepting drinks from strangers wasn't the wisest thing to do; a lesson well learned from playing the game Heavy Rain.

Garry gave a heavy sigh, and an impromptu wave of his hand. "Look, it's not spiked or anything...I understand it'd take a whole lot to trust me, but as if I'd stoop to such a low level. See…" To confirm his theory, he took a small sip, but pushed the cup away almost immediately, causing some of it to spill onto the floor. "Ack, hot hot hot!" He quickly set it down on the table, before rushing into the kitchen to grab himself a glass of water.

Ib watched in silence, perplexed at this character's strange actions. He was certainly an oddball, she would give him that. But he really didn't seem like the type who was into blasphemous or potentially uncourteous things.

Swallowing her doubt, she took her own sip from the cup, and almost spat out the tea but held her tongue. Besides the burning sensation on the tip of her tongue from the heat, it was just way too sugary for her liking! Garry came back in a moment later, and seeing the look of disdain on the young girl's face, he bowed his head in shame and apologized at once. "S-Sorry again…! I normally just make it that way, and well, you know…At least, are you feeling better?"

She really wasn't, but she gave the thumbs up nonetheless, and was relieved when his face relaxed the slightest. "That's good…" He gave a sigh of relief and sunk back down into the couch beside her, the movement causing her to curl up a little into herself out of impulse.

They sat in silence for what was a good five minutes, before Garry turned to her once more, determined for answers. "So…About before…"

"…"

"Y-You…Why would-"

"That wasn't her."

Garry's eyes widened in surprise at the very unexpected comment. "W-What…?" He almost choked over his words, an eerie sensation settling over his bones and his lips tightening a little.

Ib sat up, but the sudden movement made her head spin, and her body swayed slightly from the confusion. "She…" Her hands began to shake. "Rebekah would never do that…That…thing…It was a fake; it wasn't real…"

"R-Rebekah…? Who-"

"Rebekah Mcalister…My friend…T-The…" But when Garry's expression didn't change, she sighed and her eyes narrowed, the pain evident inside. This wasn't supposed to happen in real life. Things like this only existed in comic books and horror movies. There wasn't even such thing…as ghosts and the like…was there?

There was a moment of unrequited silence, until Garry gave in with a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "Alright. Alright Ib, I understand. But…There's not much right now we can do to help…Rebekah." He turned to her with a finalized look in his now softened sapphire eyes, and blinked, giving a wry smile at his obviously shaken visitor.

"…"

Garry looked up at the cracked ceiling, a contemplative look on his face, but when he finally sighed he looked at her in understanding, and for just a moment in time, he was somewhere else, somewhere relatable and horrifying and dangerous as well.

"What matters now is that you're safe and sound. When the storm clears up, I'll take you home, okay?"

For now, Ib's instincts told her to trust this…stranger. After all, Rebe-…The monster might still be out there, ready to strike when vulnerability pervaded. The thought made her shudder slightly, and she drew the blanket around her shoulders even tighter.

"…Thank you…For saving me."

"Uh? Oh, no problem. Glad to be of service."

It took another hour or so, but just as Garry had predicted, eventually the wind and rain died down to a pleasant drizzle, and looking outside, the world seemed to be completely clean, and yet devoid of life. "You'll get that around here. Unfortunately it's not the best place to live, which is why there are so few people here." Garry mentioned as they began to walk out the door.

"Oh, and don't forget your bag."

"I won't…"

They began the short trek up a nearby hill, and the sun poked its way from between the clouds, giving a refreshing and contrasting shine to the earth. All the while, Ib kept to Garry's side, her fingers curled tightly around the fabric of his jacket, while Garry kept his hands in his pockets.

Eventually they reached her neighbourhood, and Garry came to a stop, causing Ib to stop also. She looked up at the older man with inclined curiosity and slight worry, but he merely smiled. "I'll watch you walk, don't worry."

"…Aren't you coming too?"

Garry chuckled gently, and merely shrugged. "I'm not well-known around here, and besides, it'd look weird if you were seen with me, right?"

That was true. In spite of the rumours already floating around about her, it'd only make the speculation worse if Garry were to become involved too, she hated to say. But, it was still so frightening to walk alone...

"Don't worry, I'm right behind you. If you call, I'll come running."

"…Okay." With a hesitant nod, she began to walk forward. Without Garry beside her, she felt almost naked. But her house was right at the end of the street, and if Garry wasn't fast enough than anyone else around could help her out too, right?

There was, however, a lingering thought in the back of her mind as she stepped inside of the house. She peered out the window to see the purple-haired man slowly walking away, and something fizzled about in her stomach that wasn't fright or regret.

How on earth did he know her name?

_-End of Chapter 4-_

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**Gotta stop my obsessive writing. Gotta stop my obsessive writing. Gotta stop-**

**I was writing nonstop for five days or so, and I always manage to finish a chapter in a day ;A; Pretty soon this story'll be over, or I won't have any time to go on hiatus on this here account because you'd all have read it already ;w;**

**Nevertheless, R&R? And no flames please :'D**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Poor Ib! D: I made the girl traumatised. Whoopsie. Well, at least Garry came at just the right time! Was that too predictable? Yes? …Oh.**

**Well anyways, a good dose of Ib should keep me going for a while. School started a few weeks ago and I felt just as hesitant as Ib did to go back there D: Nonetheless, let us prevail together, child! LET US BRAVE THE STOOORRRRRRMMMMMM-**

**Anyways, enjoy the chapter ^w^**

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**Chapter Five, Heart Wounds**

That night Ib didn't sleep. She had no intention of going to school the following morning, or even the week after, and when her mother saw the state she was in when she walked through the door, she had a pretty good idea why Ib didn't think it best. Ib was no stranger to taking extensive breaks from her school-life; in fact it had become a rather common occurrence ever since she was nine years old.

Although Ib had been a mostly silent child, she had been well behaved and kind to everyone that she met. Coming from a high class family ensured her manners were always at the ready, and that she was a polished prize, being the only child of the Roses.

However, one day Ib suddenly developed intense paranoia and her parents had no idea what brought it on, what it exactly was that had erased their once shy and lovely daughter from existence. She suddenly cracked and woke up most nights screaming relentlessly. She claimed to see a blonde haired youth approach her in her dreams, hell-bent on killing her and another person she simply referred to as 'Him'.

The young girl had babbled on about haunted art galleries, blood and fire, and it was all a little too late for her grief-stricken parents to narrow it down to the Guertena exhibit they had visited that one time, and Ib's garbled ramblings were usually too scrambled to be comprehensive. In fact, the only understanding they ever gained was from their next door neighbour Richard Mcalister, or as he was referred to by his patients, Dr Mcalister.

Richard was a well-known clinical psychologist around the town, who prided himself on his extensive knowledge of working with children and adolescents. When Ib's condition failed to settle down, they finally decided to give in to breaking their solid reputation in hopes of redeeming their little girl's happiness. It was 6 years to this day that she still had to take a decent amount of medication each day she came home from school, which were prescribed to apparently stop the majority of hallucinations and nightmares she experienced.

She lied about this instance, however, just like she did for many. Ib knew that the medication wouldn't eradicate it all completely, and this was because somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that everything she dreamed about that distorted world was _real. _There was absolutely no coherent and non-crazy way to explain it, but she believed with every fibre of her soul that whatever this was, it wasn't just a fabricated and ludicrous tale.

The reason she loved Fa's music so much was because his conviction was absolute. His voice, his resonance and lyrics she could compare her memories and faraway experiences so easily with, and the enchanting phasic rhythm he held in every song he wrote…

_It was so familiar…_

She liked to believe that if they ever met in person she could depend on someone like him as a true and honest friend. Someone like that…who felt so much like the presence who had protected her all those years ago…

But who would even dare…for somebody like _her…_

Even though keeping the truth about Rebekah's crazy behaviour from her parents made her feel uneasy, she really didn't have much of a choice.

It was rather an absurd and twisted truth in itself, and there were times when Ib didn't even believe it herself. But when the memory of those chilling, cold blue eyes crossed her mind, she went through the degrading process of fear once more.

But not once did she cry, because it was just as silly that she feared the noise might attract the monster. As such, she rolled beneath her covers and attempted to block out the days, leaving herself to wallow about in darkness.

She couldn't do much to keep the scary thoughts at bay, she knew. It was the first time anything like this had happened, and she wasn't sure how she would cope. Eating, playing video games, doing her homework, practicing the violin…they were all too normal, too real and too familiar to do anything but remind her of her…friend.

There hadn't been anything this chilling before, and she wasn't sure how her life would be now that she had experienced such a thing, such a strange and twisted betrayal...

That was, until she thought of Garry. Ib hadn't intended for his fleeting image to appear, or for it to bring her immediate peace, but all the same she clung onto it desperately.

Even though he had been there during the situation, and he should have been a rather large influence to the fear (due to the fact that he had appeared at the same time everything went wrong), his newly cast presence made her feel grounded. With him he brought a new sense of familiarity, something that kept her slightly stable, just as best as she had been before the attack.

With the odd, almost ladylike way he spoke, to his awkward habits, unkempt hair, unusual sense of fashion and overbearing kindness, the knowledge that he actually cared was enough to calm her down until the time came when she was able to stand on her two (shaky) feet once more.

At first she thought she wouldn't make it down the hall, let alone into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat, but she surprised herself immensely when she was out the door by 8 and on her way to school that following Monday morning.

The outside world was as carefree and ignorant as ever, and the complete normalcy and disregard of Rebekah's behaviour almost made her want to scurry back underneath her covers once more. But instead she braved a forced smile and took the first step, her black leather shoes scuffing against the polished pavement as she went.

She was driven to school that morning, after having asked her mother shyly and receiving a kind of confused look in response. "Why is that, Ib? I thought you liked walking."

"It's not that, it's just…"

"Oh of course, dear! Your knee would make that hard now, wouldn't it?"

In it all, the damaged knee was the least of her problems.

"Have a nice day today, alright? And be more careful next time!" Her mother had shouted before driving off, leaving Ib to stand alone outside of the school's entrance.

The buildings still seemed soaked from that rainy day, but she knew it was just her own imagination playing games with her. With a heavy heart, she trudged through the gates and towards homeroom.

The day progressed slower than usual. Ib found she couldn't concentrate in her morning classes; not that it mattered much anyway, seeing as the teachers never really noticed her presence in the first place. She couldn't eat her lunch, let alone stand to hang around the usual company.

Going home was the same thing, a repetition of numbness mixed with anxiety, and combined with hunger, she felt even more ill than she had coming to school.

The days blurred together, and she lost all sense of time during and leading up to the day everything changed, a short two weeks later.

It was inevitable, really, even though she had no idea how to comprehend the fact, and having to add only even more sorrow onto her burdened soul, she really didn't she was going to survive.

She was finally sick and tired of the loneliness, and even though nobody had mentioned anything to her (not a single word), she was more than eager to find out about Rebekah's absence. The girl hadn't even lifted a finger to call and explain what had truly happened that day.

Perhaps Rebekah was scared; terrified that she had lost the younger girl's affection, even though such an idea made Ib's head spin. But even with the incident having occurred, was it even stranger that Ib just wanted to see her again? Just to hug her, and tell her that they could put it behind them and continue living on normally in the world?

Through the last few weeks, Ib had only thought about herself and of her fear. But that was going to change. There were those who obviously knew about the affiliation between the two girls, considering the passing glances and looks in the hallways they would receive when walking and laughing together, but the only person Ib felt truly comfortable in confiding in was a boy who went by the name of Colin Gavin.

Colin had been one of the few people who disregarded the rumours and nasty glares she received and would go out of his way at times to check up on how she was. It was safe to say that Ib had a small affection for him, and had since the start of school, but even if she acted upon these feelings he was way out of her league. Along with barely being friends, Colin was well-liked and respected by everybody, making him a popular individual within the school. He had girls, and even guys alike, hanging off his arms, but he never chose favourites amongst the friends he had and the friends he would make.

So with a shaky breath, she gingerly tapped him on his shoulder. He had been leaning against the locker, surrounded by his group of not-so-nice friends, and it took almost all of her willpower and motivation to even make her way over to them.

Colin raised an eyebrow and stared at her with curious brown eyes, and offered a smile with those curved lips of his. "Hey Ib! What's up?"

Ib was a little dumbstruck, and her tongue bounced over the words she had been meaning to say. She let out a small whimper, receiving a few wayward snickers from Colin's friends and a frown from Colin himself. There was a small look of embarrassment on his face and Ib knew if she didn't act soon, she would lose the attention she had barely managed to grasp.

"H-Have…"

"…?"

_Snicker…Oh em gee, why is Ib talking to Colin? Ew, Colin, come and talk to us-_

"Have you seen Rebekah?"

_Silence._

Colin tilted his head to the side, perplexed at her inquiry. "Rebecca…? Rebecca Allison-"

"No…! Rebekah, y-y'know…_Mcalister._"

"Who?"

Ib's eyes widened. How could he _not _know who Rebekah was…?

"U-Uhm…my friend…L-Long blonde hair, b-blue eyes-"

"Why don't you just shut up, Ib? Colin obviously doesn't want to hear you babble on about nonsense." Came the voice of Cindy Buckland, who's lips were pursed in a possessive smile. Ib stumbled back a little, and Colin gave a wry shrug of his own before turning back to his friends once more.

Ib, despite her desperate respite, reluctantly turned and walked away, but her head was in a spin.

_Who is Rebekah?_

The look in his eyes when he said that suggested he was being sincere, but Ib had no choice but to believe otherwise. He was obviously lying...! There were times when he simply made no remarks of inclinations towards her at all, or tried to give a meagre excuse so she would move away from him whenever the topic of conversation ensued. Although it shouldn't have hurt as much it did, coming from him, it was just the way it was.

However, when it came to now, the answer seemed to be the same wherever she went.

"Rebekah? Am I supposed to know who you're talking about?"

"Friends…? I've never known anyone like that, sorry…"

"Do I even know you?"

"Bahahah, are you crazy or something? Or just stupid?"

Stumbling out into the nearby courtyard, Ib looked around wildly, tears brimming in the corners of her crimson eyes. She was at the very edge, because not a single person had confirmed her friend's existence. Each and every one of them looked at her with contempt and confusion. It was only two weeks, but it seemed as if not a single individual had known of her at all.

Everyone should've known and liked Rebekah, and Ib would never have minded, because that was who she was. Rebekah was bright, cheerful, and radiant of acceptance, love, tolerance and promise. She had the very potential to step up from the mess that Ib was and become a person in her own right. She shouldn't have to be hindered by the darkness that shrouded the younger girl's being, but there had never been any change in atmosphere or wanting, because it was always Ib that Rebekah had wanted. Ib never knew why, but Rebekah's solid attachment and friendship gave her comfort and a sense of belonging.

But now that she was gone, Ib thought she would go mad from despair.

Everyone was treating her disappearance as nothing major. Why would they do that? Why were they doing that? Rebekah wasn't bad…Rebekah wasn't horrible...She wasn't a monster.

As much as everyone denoted it, she wanted to deny each and every one of them. _No Rebekah. No more Rebekah. Rebekah was here no more. It's your fault. She's gone because of you._

This was all a sick joke! _She's gone because of you. _Too much had gone on already, that it really couldn't be real. She would even bet her life that Garry was in on it as well, and that at any minute now Rebekah would jump out and yell, "Surprise!"

Sick and twisted, yes, but only a joke…_Right!?_

Rebekah only wanted to make her laugh in the end. It was all she ever wanted, even if Ib felt like the biggest fool. But she would have no choice but to forgive. After all, the blonde was the only friend that she ever had.

_.:Fabricated|World:._

"Oh Ib! How have you been? How have your parents been lately? Tell them we said hello, wouldn't you?"

After school and without hesitation, she had rushed on over to Rebekah's house, almost forgetting to call her father to tell her that she would be just a little late coming home in time for dinner.

"Ooh, does our daughter maybe have a secret lover she's not telling us about? Well, you are getting to that age where-"

"Dad, stop. I'm just going to visit Rebekah."

"…Who, honey?"

As much as that had made her stomach drop, she just pushed it carefully aside and assumed that even her parents were in on the joke as well. Was there no one she could trust at the moment?

"Is Rebekah home?" She asked, peering over Rebekah's parents shoulders and through the gaps in their arms to try and catch a glimpse of the obviously hidden girl.

It was Rebekah's mother, Rachel, who reacted first. The women's hazel eyes suddenly went wide, and the worn creases in her polite smile downturned into ones of disbelief and horror. "H-How dare…" She began to utter, to which Ib stepped back in shock.

Richard was at the door a second later, and with his collected demeanour he managed to calm his wife's anguished cries. Giving her a very quick glance, he muttered a small apology and closed the door quietly.

Ib was left in silence.

Halfway down the road, she broke into a rebellious run. She broke through the trees and bushes and in the direction of the abandoned station, one of the only places that was hopefully still at ease and the same ever since the world had turned on its heel. Hot tears of frustration were burning in the corners of her eyes, and she wiped them away furiously.

She was just so goddamned tired of it all! Why couldn't the joke just end already!? Who the hell came up with such a cruel idea to keep her in the dark like this anyway?

She didn't think she could take much more…In fact, she had surprised herself at what she was taking, and for the fact that she hadn't yet broken.

But…what if it was all true? What if her friend really didn't exist? What if she never existed at all? Why was Rachel so horrified at her daughter's own name? What if Ib was crazy, and had been daydreaming the entire time? Was Rebekah a ghost, a figment of her imagination…a delusion?

_WHAT WAS GOING ON HERE?!_

_No, no no! _That's what they _wanted _her to think. They wanted her to question her own perception on reality until she finally cracked, and huddled in a corner to console her frantic mind. Whoever 'they' were (Rebekah, Colin, her parents, the teachers, God, Garry…), it didn't matter. It had already begun, and the unusually familiar sensation of her anxiety peaking brought a wave of nausea to her stomach.

"Stop it…Please…" She uttered to no one in particular, falling to her knees on the ground beside a puddle that hadn't yet evaporated since another generous storm only two days before. She was met with silence, the wind making the only sound as it twisted and curled through the triangular shaped branches of the firs above, causing them to sway a little dauntingly in the cool of the evening.

Ib had managed to find herself a small clearing, surrounded by tall evergreens and tussles of overgrown grass. From the sky, the clouds created a picture perfect reflection into the water below. It rippled only slightly, causing Ib's own mirrored self to waver in its wake.

She uncovered her bleary eyes and stared downwards, facing the opposing world with wonder. Could it be, that she had unknowingly stepped through a boundary, into another plane of existence, where everything was as it was except that she had to go without importance? Was Rebekah's existence in this world undeserving, fabricated…worthy to be burnt in the fires of unforgiveness?

Was this all just merely an illusion, a delusion or even a dream that had yet to pass? It felt so surreal…and suffocating…So much so that Ib clamped her hands around her own throat in an attempt to smother the feeling.

Wracked with another wave of melancholy, she squeezed, causing her grip to become tighter and gagged loudly. Her logical reasoning became clouded over, and when her hands refused to let go, the panic within her rose steadily, and she writhed slightly to try and loosen the hold.

She was afraid to admit that the constriction didn't feel like her own, and she stood abruptly, stumbling backwards a few feet as black dots threatened to patch her vision. For a single moment in time, she felt completely deserving of strangulation. What would the world miss, and what was she if Rebekah wasn't there to tell her that she loved her regardless?

Her eyes dragged over to the puddle, and within it she saw her lovely Rebekah kneeling, with her hands outstretched towards her.

For a moment, Ib thought Rebekah had returned, and was seated next to her at that very moment, but when she looked around and found herself to still be alone, she suddenly became very afraid, but the fear wasn't enough to keep her from crying out her voice in desperation.

"R-Re…" _Help me…_

_Ib…_

She almost heard her name being spoken as Rebekah's lips moved in a silent motion. The girl was dressed in a rather old fashioned green frock, tied at the front with a blue neckerchief. Dried blood stained the side of her face, and in one hand she held a wilting yellow rose.

_Ib, help me…_

The thorns from the rose cut deeply into her palm, causing fresh blood to well and ooze out into the soaked and rippling surroundings. It spread out like dust rising in a sandstorm, painting everything around it with a crimson sheen.

_Ib…_

The blood poured over Rebekah's own figure, until it stained her lonely blue eyes, turning them a dark shade of crimson, very much like Ib's own.

_IB, HELP ME!_

"No, NO!" Ib screamed, her voice raspy. She wanted to take to a run as the blood began to reach out, threatening to envelope her in its grasp, but she only managed to fall backwards, her breathing completely cut short as she squeezed her throat as tightly as she could manage.

"NO-

"-NO! IB DON'T." Her own cries of anguish suddenly mingled with somebody else's as she felt a pair of arms wrap around her shaking frame. Almost immediately the mad whispering inside of her head switched off at the comforting touch, and her desperate screams ceased into nothing more than subtle whimpers.

"No…No, no, no, no, no…"

"Shh! Ib, I'm here, it's okay…calm down…"

She snapped her eyes open at the familiar sound of Garry's voice, and found him cradling her with all of the gentleness he could muster. His sapphire eyes were widened with fear, and it took a moment or two for Ib to accept situation.

She slowly looked around. The scenery was still the same as it had been before. There was no blood. There was no rose. There was no Rebekah.

There was no Rebekah.

"G-Garry…" Ib stuttered, burying her head into his chest. She was shaking fitfully, her breathing very unsteady and her cheeks stained with tears. Garry's face softened, and he wiped away the stains carefully.

"Oh god…W-Why now…Why are you doing this to yourself…?"

"G-Ga…"

"I'm here. I'm here Ib. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"

She didn't even bother fighting back as she was lifted from the ground and cradled within his sturdy arms. She remained silent and still, looking devoid of life as Garry walked back the way they had come from. He walked in the tree line, and out of sight of the road, towards the town. The girl's school bad was slung around his shoulder, and his footsteps were slow as he trudged onwards through the undergrowth.

He was wondering when her behaviour in response to the Fabricated World might have begun. His own nightmares and delusions had started only shortly after having left. They had come unexpectedly, and he suspected triggered by an unfortunate event. For him, he was pretty sure that the despair from having Ib's memory wiped clean had brought them on.

It was unsettling, sure, and yet it spoke of an unstable mind. He thought he had just gone mad as a result; who wouldn't go just a little bit insane after what had happened?

Because Ib had never shown any signs of these occurrences (or even remembering whatsoever), he simply though they were applied to him and only him. However, upon their meeting, Ib had begun to act very, very strange.

It terrified him, and made his heart ache with guilt. Was it all his fault? Was his presence triggering some turn-based events upon which her repressed memories were seeping to the surface because he happened to be a very big part of what she had gone through all those years ago?

The idea made Garry's stomach do flips. It was selfish, he knew, but a little part of him wanted her to endure these horrific things just so he could get her back. He stopped in their path and shook his head violently. He couldn't…!

He couldn't afford to think so selfishly, not after all this time…! Ib's safety, and especially her state of mind, were of the upmost importance. It didn't matter what he wanted, not at all. He'd already decided that even though she had no memory of who he was that he'd still do whatever he could to protect her, even at a distance.

Their meeting was definitely not inevitable. He could've avoided it, if only he'd been more careful…

After this instance, he vowed to himself that he would keep his distance, just so she wouldn't be triggered.

But what if it was that she needed him now more than ever…?

Shaking his head to try and warn the unwarranted thoughts away, he was suddenly interrupted as Ib's body roused, shifting slightly in his hold. "Ib…?" He murmured. "Are you okay…?"

He received a silent nod, and got the message as he placed her gently back onto the ground. She stumbled slightly, almost falling back onto her knees, and Garry steadied her again, just in case. For a couple of minutes, she just stood there, looking down at the ground with a blank expression.

Garry waited calmly nearby, his own eyes fixed on nothing, until his attention was brought back into the light as the girl moved slightly. Her head slowly rose until she was just managing to look up at him, and her eyes were narrowed, suggesting a defeated compromise to her usual motivated spark.

"…Am I crazy, Garry?"

The words pierced into him like knives, and it seemed like for the first time in six years, she had finally spoken to him once more. Not as a stranger, or even an acquaintance, but as a real friend in need.

"You're not crazy, Ib…I promise."

Ib seemed to shrug off the response, as if it were transparent in spite of her current state. She raised her eyebrows, her crimson gaze darting to the side momentarily, before fixing back onto him once more.

"Then…who are you, Garry?"

Garry stood still.

There was only silence, until…

"…I'm hoping that I'll be able to protect you."

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**No flames please? I hope you liked this chapter :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Hey I'm back guys~ Sorry for the sort of long wait, but considering this chapter's longevity, I think that gives me an excuse this time around eheh. Fabricated World has become a very important story in the production of my own life so I'm working all I can into it.**

**I hope to really deliver this time, and to note this is mainly some fluffy cruising around town with Garry and Ib, but by the next chapter we'll really have the story rolling~!**

**ATTENTION: I have edited the last five chapters and tweaked the story a whole lot so I suggest rereading before going on with this one, and even so I need to edit this one as well XD**

**Okay, I'm too tired for this. It's 3am and I have school in 3 hours sooooo, let's do this.**

**Disclaimer: Ib does not belong to me, but this story does. In no way am I trying to claim a profit or otherwise, only the mixed reviews of my readers!**

**Alright, onto the chapter :D**

* * *

**Chapter Six, Strained Ear**

The day had begun with an unsettling chill. The town was wrapped in a thin and transparent fog, the sun's rays struggling to break through the bleakness of the morning. It was almost like the shore had asked the sea to hide it from the warmth, rejecting any form of hospitality in that moment in time.

Ib liked to think the seaside town was just resting, and giving it's townsfolk the chance to rest as well.

Considering the situation, she was relatively unsure if this was the best of ideas, but for the moment she couldn't think of anything else.

Garry and Ib had agreed to meet the following day, which was thankfully a Saturday, to search around town for any existing traces of Rebekah. It was a rather long stretch, and it didn't do justice to search when there was a more of a percentage chance that nothing would be found, but it couldn't hurt to try.

Ib was waiting in the middle of an intersection, on a lonely strip of land that separated the road and the sidewalk, surrounded by only wispy arms of mist and her own nonchalant sense of being. While for most people, such a scene would rather be avoided, Ib, with her twisted sense of security, welcomed it with open arms. Instead of seeing it as a vulnerability, she saw it as a more comfortable cover that evened out the odds of whatever enemy might come her way.

She was donned in blue jeans and a lanky, long sleeved white and black striped shirt. Wrapped tightly around her frame to shield her from the chill were a long red coat, and a scarf to match.

The scarf was actually a cautionary action, of all things, to hide the visible red marks from the day before. She clenched her fists to stop her body from shaking at the memory and turned the volume on her iPod up even louder, letting the sweet melody of 'Stone Cage' fill her with a sense of peace.

_"You give me a faint smile, my dear, but I fear it's time to say goodbye._

_For our inevitable separation is coming nigh._

_Encased in thorns of stone, I reach out to hold you near, but you are soon swept away by the darkness so clear._

_I should've known, I swore to protect, everything we have, but in the end there is only regret."_

A small wind picked up and blew her long, silky hair out behind her, causing her to be stirred from her musical trance and back into the waiting day.

She checked the little digital timer on her device. It was already 9:46...Where was he?

Her question was answered a minute later as Garry came pounding down the road, a piece of toast hanging out the side of his mouth in the typical Rei Ayanami fashion and a rather tired look on his face as he stopped to catch his breath.

"I'm…sorry…I'm…late…" He said in between gasps, and after a moment, he gave a sheepish grin, taking another bite of his now cold breakfast. "Want some?" He offered, but Ib politely refused.

"Did you sleep in or something?" She asked instead, pocketing her IPod as they began to walk down the cobblestone path and towards the central park.

Garry finished off the last of the nutella toast and wiped his brow, taking another deep breath. "Yesterday was a little, uh…hectic, as you know. But today we'll do even better! What do you say?"

Ib's heart ached with guilt. "Sorry." She muttered, looking to the side blankly, but Garry ruffled her hair playfully, causing her to blink in confusion from the sudden affectionate gesture. "It's cool. No sweat."

"...I know." She replied, gesturing to the fog about her, to which the action made Garry sigh in a light-hearted disbelief. "Ah Ib, it wasn't a pun...Did it really sound like one?"

Garry received a small, humorous smile from the younger girl, and he smiled in turn. Right then and there in that very moment, he couldn't think of a better way to be spending his time, with just the two of them, walking and talking like he had only dreamed.

It was nonsensical, in itself, that they were treating each other with such familiarity, despite never having really 'hung out' before. Ib wondered why Garry treated her like such a dear friend, while he in turn hoped she saw him as one already, if not sooner rather than later.

The moment dispersed unexpectedly, however, when Ib said, "So, where should we look first?"

That was when Garry remembered that they weren't together to enjoy themselves, no. He was just her sidekick at the moment in the mission to find her missing friend. Albeit the frustrating situation, he couldn't blame her. After all, he knew what it was like to lose a friend too.

So, he mustered an enthusiastic smile, and pulled a town map out of his pocket. The day before they had poured over various locations as to where Rebekah might've gone before she 'disappeared'. The locations were circled in red ink (for added, dramatic effect) and were listed as follows, though in no particular visiting order.

The library, the park, the ice-cream parlour, the high-school, the downtown market and finally...The Art Gallery.

At the sight of the last destination, Garry struggled to keep a shiver at bay, which had caused Ib to look at him curiously. "Why do you look so surprised?" She had asked. "Rebekah loves the place. She even had...has a part time job there."

"Oh...I guess..." Well, he didn't think it would hurt to stretch the truth a little now, would it? "Sculptures are creepy. You know, like ceramic heads and manikins? The way they just stare, lifeless and-"

"Garry." Ib had chuckled slightly. "They're just manikins. It's not like they're alive or anything."

That's what _she_ thought.

Back to the present day, Garry scowled and shook his head, clearing it of the memory.

"So where to first?" He asked, pouring over the map with the tip of his finger.

"To the bridge." Ib instantly replied, adjusting the straps of her schoolbag slung over her shoulders. "Rebekah and I always fed the geese there..."

So, what were they going to find? Breadcrumbs?

Garry masked an irritated snort with a yawn, and began to merrily march. "Thata-way!"

"No, this way." Ib pointed in the opposite direction and began to walk, causing Garry to give a nervous laugh as he quickly plodded along after her.

"Those aren't geese. Are you sure this is the right place?" Garry turned the map upside down, and peered closely, but the embarrassment from earlier was clouding his sense of judgement.

"No...this is the right place. I'm sure of it."

"As sure as you are about your birds? They're swans, not geese. I was wondering what kind of deranged fellow allowed there to be geese in the local park anyway."

Ib blinked and cocked her head to the side. Had she really been viewing them wrong all this time?

"They look similar, except geese are smaller and fatter. Swans have longer necks and more feathers too, and distinct markings that differentiate them from geese. Oh, and geese also have teeth, so you better watch out if they ever get close. The pack a nasty bite."

"It sounds like you're scared of them, Garry." Ib leaned over the bridge railing and stared at her reflection in the glistening water. A swan (she would have to get used to thinking of them like that now) floated by, obscuring her image and causing it to ripple. She blinked and silently pulled back up, looking at Garry once more.

The older man had his arms crossed over his chest like a stubborn child, and he looked to the side. "Well, who wouldn't be? Teeth, on a goddamn bird! Whoever created this earth had some pretty messed up ideas..."

She couldn't help but smile. It was an admirable, if silly, trait to be able to honestly admit to such a ridiculous fear, but coming from Garry the response only seemed that much more adorable.

She tucked her scarf in and began to wander, staring about the desolated place with a small pang of guilt in her chest. So many happy memories resided in this very park, so many that it seemed like a waste just to be expected to forget about them.

Ib and her family had had their very first picnic just under the tree on the other side of the river.

It had also been the same day she had first seen a squirrel, and tried mint flavoured ice-cream for the very first time.

The park could only be remembered with the image of the sun shining brightly, and for its absence, it left her feeling a little down.

It was just so cold, and haunting...and lonely. Dead, even, if Garry's jubilant spark hadn't been there to keep her morbid thoughts at bay.

She turned to see him crouching close to the riverbank, an obviously agitated swan standing only a few feet away.

He was whispering, uttering, something like a tune under his breath, and reaching out his hand to stroke it's glossy black feathers.

But the tides turned as the swan gave an unearthly mix between a shriek and a gasp and charged at him, causing Garry to scream in turn. He scuffled backwards up the bank and ran towards Ib as fast as he could, panic making his eyes widen.

He collapsed to the ground and slumped, breathing heavily. Ib prodded him gently with a foot, and he looked up quickly, blinking rapidly.

"...Uhm." Garry stood, straightening his coat and trying to look as sophisticated as he could. "That was..."

"Swans may not have teeth, but they're still just as vicious, you know. That's why Rebekah and I never went near them."

Garry pouted and turned away, scratching his chin to cover up his rather childish mistake.

"L-let's go. There are heaps of places we haven't looked yet..."

By 12:30 they had already scoured the library and ice-cream parlor, both of which ended up with nothing.

The only remotely useful thing from either of those two places was the praline and strawberry icecreams the parlor sold, which the two of them had decided to buy as a midday snack.

They were seated outside of the parlor underneath a bright red parasol when Garry asked, "Hey, why is she your best friend anyway?"

He hadn't meant for it to be a judgmental phrase, and he hoped it hadn't sounded like one. He was just rather curious; after all, what WAS so great about this girl that Ib wanted to spend as much time as she could around her anyway?

It seemed Ib didn't take the question with offense, instead smiling with understanding and looking down at her half eaten snack.

"She's...the only one who really cares, I guess, besides my parents, you know." She looked up at him, rather alarmed, suddenly, and waved her hands in defense. "Not that the rest of the world is bad though! I mean...And, well, there's also you-" But...why would he care?

Garry wasn't looking at her. "No I get it. She seemed to be the only one who ever paid attention to you and your parents don't count because they're meant to love you, right?"

"...Yeah. Yeah, that's-"

"And you didn't think of trying to win the heart of anybody else because you didn't see the point. Not that you're a bad person, but it's because you never knew how and you were too...scared to try. But when she came into your life, you didn't know that something like that could happen, that someone could be so accepting and nice...And she eventually became your best friend because of it, even though your trust for others was already shaky. She made you feel like-"

"-like I was accepted and wanted..." Ib trailed off, staring at the older man in her own fascination.

But there was no evidence on Garry's face that spoke of understanding as he simply licked away at his ice-cream with that goofy smile of his.

She blinked.

"...Have you been stalking me, Garry?"

The older man coughed and choked loudly, clearing his throat and staring at the younger girl in horror. "W-What! No-"

"Are you a pedophile?"

"No, Ib! NO." He stood up, almost knocking the table over onto its side in his dramatic attempt at keeping his panic under control. His sudden movement caused a few heads to stir and look his way, and he was almost afraid Ib would scream and make a scene, but that was hard to believe. No, she was a sensible girl, and besides, causing a ruckus was more of his style.

He lowered his voice to a static, nervous whisper and looked about cautiously. "I would never do that to you, Ib. Never in a million years, and I don't want you getting that idea, I just want to protect you and-Hey, what's with that smile? ...You think this is funny!?"

Ib's small smirk confirmed the thought that she had only said those things to get a playful rise out of him, and it had worked. Ib knew Garry wasn't capable of those things, no matter how old he was.

For one, he was afraid of geese, and secondly, there had been times when they had been alone already and not once had he even attempted anything of the sort.

It was a stretch, and despite his awkward nature, Ib trusted him enough already to not resort to that kind of stuff.

Garry quickly seated and muttered to himself, irritated that he had dropped his ice-cream in his panicked outburst and that now two corgis were licking up it's melted remains.

"Hehe, sorry." Ib apologized, reaching out and handing him her ice-cream to make up for her little trick. At first, she thought he would refuse, but his features softened and he took it, licking it shyly.

She wiped off her hands and scratched one of the corgis behind the ear, earning an excited bark for her efforts, and smiled. "You sound like you know what it's like though..."

"What's like what...?" Garry raised an eyebrow but nonetheless continued to indulge.

"That you know what it's like having a best friend and maybe even losing them, like I have..."

Garry faltered, but then he smiled slightly. "Well of course. Who's never had a best friend before? But I'm not too worried, because I haven't lost them, I'm sure of that. Just like I'm sure you haven't lost Rebekah, okay? No matter what, you guys will stay tight for a long time. It's a promise that can't easily be broken."

"...You're right. We can't lose hope, not ever. She's still out there and I'm determined to set things right."

"Me too." He agreed, finishing off the last of the ice-cream and leaving a generous tip at the table. "Now let's go!"

"Actually, let's turn back..." The hasty assault within Garry's voice as he turned away made Ib intrigued, and she gripped onto his wrist to stop him from moving any further.

"There's nothing wrong, is there?" She inquired, and the older man bit his lip nervously.

They were standing outside of the local art gallery, overshadowed by its marble and concrete correlation. Ib figured it was the next best place to look, but thankfully for Garry it was closed on Saturdays. That didn't stop Ib, however.

She pulled on the door and it swung open easily (yet surprisingly), earning a measly squeak from Garry as he took a few steps backwards.

Without hesitation, she stepped through, and without choice, the purple haired man followed.

She strode easily along the shiny floor and towards the service desk. It was attended by a handsome looking boy, who looked to be about in his late teens. His soft brown eyes averted from his reading material and onto Ib's shorter form with surprise, and a small smile formed on his lips.

"Why hello there! What can I do for you, young lady?"

Ib would've scowled if it weren't for her monotone resolve, and she simply gave a polite smile. "I was wondering if you had anyone under the name of Rebekah Mcalister working on your roster?"

The boy sat back in his leather chair, causing it to creak, and shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't do that-" That was when he spotted Garry, standing idly a few feet away, inspecting his black sneakers as if they were the most exciting thing in the whole world.

Assuming the taller, almost rugged looking male was Ib's father or even brother, the clerk swallowed his nervousness and sheepishly smiled down at Ib once more. "Eh, actually, madam...Give me a moment."

When he stood and went through to the back, Ib turned to look at Garry, who was simply looking at her in distress.

Ib felt a little guilty. He must've really had something against art galleries...It was an odd phobia, but for his oddball personality she saw how it could fit.

The lighting within the building was down, and a sign blocking the stairs that was surrounded by yellow and black ticket tape spoke of a new exhibition being set up prior to the gallery's reopening the following Monday.

With the unnatural dark atmosphere and silence in the lonely building, save for Garry's rapid breathing, it created a rather eerie scene.

Ib's eyes averted to the shadows covering the stairs, and she swore she could almost see a figure peering out from behind the sign.

Ib's eyes widened slightly, and she began to quiver. As she was about to take a step back, the clerk returned, holding a clipboard in one hand and a pencil in the other.

"Okay...Rebekah Mc-"

"Alister."

"Right." He clicked his tongue, scanning up and down the list carefully, until he reached the end and frowned. "I'm sorry...I can't find her name anywhere. Maybe she works somewhere else...?"

Ib knew that more likely than not this wasn't going to be the case, but she couldn't stop her heart from aching a little in sadness, and the clerk's gaze grew concerned.

"...Listen, miss. She's around somewhere, you just have to keep on looking, alright? I don't know who you're looking for, but...I mean, we're not that large a town, and-"

But by that time, Ib had already turned to leave.

"Okay, so we scratch that..."

"Yeah. Where to next?"

Ib's look was a mix between isolated and worn out, and Garry frowned slightly in remorse. "Well...the marketplace is the last place on the map."

"...Yeah..."

They had already searched the school, or at least the perimeter, considering it was surrounded by a large iron fence, making it seem more like a prison than anything else.

Garry sighed, before placing a hand on her shoulder and crouching down slightly so they were eye level, and he smiled gently.

Ib looked at him in surprise, her eyes widening slightly at the sudden, adoring action.

"Ib, we should go to the marketplace anyway. Even if we don't find Rebekah there," His eyebrows narrowed to reinforce his serious concern, "We can still go, just to wind down and relax. On Saturdays they have a sort of street performance on too, y'know. It's the least we deserve after walking around town all day, and I'm sure it's free so we can save the money we have for a little bit of a shopping spree. What do you say?"

Ib's expression had wilted again, but when Garry finished speaking and she found his sparkling blue eyes never lingering from her face, she couldn't help the small smile that broke through the gloom.

He was right, they did deserve a little break. They couldn't do much else, and she didn't feel like wandering around for another couple of hours just to come up with dead ends; she wanted to spare her heart the ache of failure.

With a very easy nod in reply, she almost expected the older man to jump up in the air with a victorious yelp, but he merely sighed in relief and ruffled her hair in a slightly demeaning but cheeky way, as if she were only a small child.

The gesture made her purse her lips together a little stubbornly as they walked onwards. Garry's gait was simple and well-defined; he was keeping surprisingly steady after an entire day of walking, but it seemed like he didn't mind.

That was when she noticed his rather worn expression, one that didn't suit his pace. She suddenly realized he was hurrying, hurrying to get the day over and done with, it seemed.

It was already nearing five in the afternoon, and the sun was setting calmly over the waterfront horizon, painting everything in a pinkish hue.

Ib's pace slowed and she dragged her feet a little solemnly along the ground. She hadn't noticed it before, but in her desperate attempt at finding her lost friend, Garry was doing his best to keep calm and obedient.

He'd tolerated her sadness, her own weariness and her ignorance. Despite his unusual phobias, he'd stuck by her side as best as he could, and all she had done was laugh and expect him to follow along.

The day and search wasn't meant to be pleasant, no, far from it in fact. But he was doing all he could without abandoning the search entirely to keep her at ease.

Ib looked down and stopped for a moment, hearing Garry's footsteps as they continued moving forward.

There was a strange, almost chilling, nostalgic sense about it. It made no sense, why Garry wanted to come along in the first place. After all, it wasn't his duty to pick up after the mess she had made. That'd be selfish on her own part...Maybe Garry really was just a nice person?

She bit her lip and looked up once more, and was shocked to see Garry waiting, a tired but honest smile on his lips.

"You coming? Or are you just going to stand there, silly girl?"

Even after...he still was here?

"I-I'm not silly!" She cried a little in indignation, which stirred a wholesome laugh from the purple-haired man. She had to hold back a playful smirk, and rushed up besides him, nudging him playfully.

He teetered a little from the motion, and playfully nudged back, before shoving his hands into his pockets and taking to a small run. "I'll race you?" He turned his body slightly, offered a wink and one of his trademark smiles, then shot off, causing Ib to rush along after him.

The least she could do was forget her grief for the remainder of the day and enjoy Garry's company while it lasted, even if it instilled even more heartache.

The waterfront waves pushed lazily against the sandy shore, lulling the town into a sense of relaxation.

Moreover, the Twilight Market came alive when the sun set, creating a bustling atmosphere amongst the slumber. It was usually an event Ib and her parents attended during the season when the weather wasn't too bad, but seeing as both of her parents' schedules had filled up in the recent months, it had been quite some time since she had actually gone.

When they stepped into the midst of a crowd made up from tourists, her nose was instantly hit with scents of cooking seafood and floral sprays.

"Woah, look at all the leeches." Garry muttered under his breath, raising an eyebrow as he entwined his hand with Ib's and began to lead her through. He had done so nonchalantly, in a natural sense, and without any other thought keeping the action at bay. He hadn't even aimed to look, and yet his fingers had slid so easily into hers, but even so the action caught Ib off guard and she stumbled along after him.

Garry didn't slow down, but Ib wasn't slow either. She allowed herself to be pulled, even pushing to hurry away from the rather cluttered scene.

When they were clear, Garry's hand remained, however loosened, and the younger girl slowly let go, trying very hard to cover up the surprised rosy blush that was faintly hinted on her cheeks.

"Alright, where to first?" Garry placed his hands on his hips and stood on his toes to get a better view, while Ib remained close, blinking a little rapidly.

They made their way around to a few of the stalls, the resounding of many voices echoing in their ears. They passed by food, jewelry, fabric, clothing, carpet, animal and many other kinds of stalls in their pursuit to discover something new.

They even stopped a couple of times to look over various merchandise that was way too expensive for their taste, and they continued on with groans of disappointment.

The bustle never stopped, and nor did their aimless wondering as they went in silence. That was, after they'd scoured the lower courts, until Ib heard something that made her turn her head a little in curiosity.

A tune, a peculiar rhythm that made her senses prickle in apprehension. It sounded like an eerie string quartet, laced around by a spellbinding sort of rise in it's melody.

No voices accompanied the sound, but voices weren't really needed. Before she knew what was happening, her feet were moving of their own accord in synchronization. At first, she was walking, and then she began to sway, but only slightly.

The indication was enough to pique interest in her movement, but it wasn't lively enough to be called a dance. Her footsteps came to a halt, and she found herself standing in front of three lone minstrels, three ladies with silky black hair and glossy lips, each holding a string instrument and playing in a haunting harmony that seeped through the crowd.

It was unusual, to have such a lamenting chorus playing in the middle of a place like this, but Ib didn't mind. The fact was that she felt the music fit her mood perfectly, and it created a spooky air that gave the marketplace a gypsy-camp feel.

Garry came striding over, holding something behind his back, and with a grin, he quickly shoved it down into the depths of Ib's school bag that had been disregarded in her musical stupor.

When she felt a small tap on her shoulder, she turned in surprise and saw Garry giving her an excited smile. "You like music?" He spoke enthusiastically, and Ib nodded a little shyly. Music was one of her greatest escapes, even though all her violin playing was folly.

"That's great! Why don't you show me what you can do, then?"

It took a moment or two for her to understand what he was even talking about, but when an understanding surfaced, she shook her head feverishly.

"No way Garry! I don't dance." She tried to put a discerning edge in her voice, but failed as it was smothered by a shy squeak.

Garry laughed and began to swivel his own hips rather flamboyantly, completely out of tune with the music and receiving a couple of snide giggles from passing tourists, but he really didn't care.

Ib giggled also, but not meanly, and it was that thankful gesture that got him laughing too. "I guess that makes two of us!"

She noticed the tiredness of his smile disintegrating as he slowed to a stop, the same handsome chuckle still making his body shake in glee.

As they moved on, Garry looked down at her once more. "So do you play anything at all? Or just listen?"

"Violin, but I'm not very good at it."

"Ah, I see! Exquisite instrument, light and easy to hold. A fair thing to play."

"What about you?" She figured his talents would stretch as far as the kazoo, but she was surprised as he drummed his fingers along his calf and replied, "Guitar, a little bit of cello, and flute."

She was a little gobsmacked at how someone could have managed to play three when she couldn't even get a single chord right.

Garry chuckled slightly. "Why do you look so surprised? Music is one of the greatest things to have come to exist. Why, it's more like an art-form than a hobby, I daresay."

"I thought you hated art?"

"Galleries, Ib. Just Galleries..."

Suddenly she stopped. A sudden new and crazy idea was running through her mind, and it took a moment or two for Garry to get her attention. "Ib? Are you okay?"

"_Oh, I happen to be quiet the curious curator myself! Why, my own house could even match to the Guertena Exhibition!"_

She suddenly turned and began to speed the other way, away from Garry and back into the crowd. Garry caught up a second later, jogging along as she nimbly darted between the clashes of people.

"Ib! Wait up! Where are you going?!" He called out a little in distress, to which when they reached a small clearing, Ib hopped back and forth on her feet in excitement, and grinned. "You'll see!" She smiled before dashing away once more.

"You...can't be serious."

"Garry, I'm serious."

"This...It's worse than-"

"The Gallery, I know. But it's okay. Just try and trust me for a minute, okay? I know what I'm doing."

The two were now standing in front of Rebekah's house. The night was dead silent, save for the chirping of late crickets in the thicket. It had already turned to 7:30, and the unsettling feeling of uneasiness seeped into Garry's pores as they walked into the front yard.

Ib said she knew what she was doing, but for some reason Garry didn't buy it. She wasn't the type of kid who went around breaking into other people's houses, even if she knew who lived there. Or maybe she was, and Garry had just shrugged her off as an introvert who hardly interacted with others in the first place.

Ib, in fact, had no clue what she was doing. Her knees shook and her lips slightly trembled from the rebellious exhilaration running through her veins. She also shook from the excitement this escapade brought. How could she have been so stupid? If there was anywhere that Rebekah's existence could've been proven, it would've been her own room. Of course, it wouldnt have done just to waltz up to the front door and ask to raid her room, no. It was hard enough that nobody knew who she was, and she would've only come off as crazy to Rebekah's own parents, which was something she really didn't want happening.

The house was completely silent. No lights shone, and there wasn't any indication that anybody was home.

The house had an old, Victorian look about it, made with mosque brick and ivy scaling it's sides. The curtains were drawn, and no car was parked in the driveway. A large garden bed of roses swayed delicately in the breeze, their buds closed to the welcoming twilight.

Ib reached underneath the old and worn 'Welcome!' carpet and pulled out a shiny silver key. She clenched her teeth and slowly inserted the key, but then breathed a sigh of relief as it turned easily in the lock.

The door swung open and Ib slipped inside as quietly as she could, Garry reluctantly following after.

"I'm about 99% sure that Mr and Mrs Mcalister aren't home from work until nine o'clock on the weekends."

"And what about that other one percent?"

"Well...we haul our butts out of here as fast as we can."

Walking idly through a narrow hallway with a pair of stairs built into the side, Garry bit his lip nervously. "This is a rich people's home. What if they have security cameras or something...?"

Ib laughed quietly. "Garry, not all rich people have surveillance in their homes...But it does make me think."

"Eh?!"

"Anyway, I've never seen anything like cameras in here, so I'm pretty sure it's safe."

"Pretty 'sure'? Somehow, that doesn't calm my woe..."

They stopped at the end of the hallway and Ib pointed to one of the three doors surrounding them. You take the bottom, I'll take the top. Deal? If you find something-Why're you laughing? Garry, this is serious!"

Garry calmed his breathing and nodded in reply, holding back another muffled chuckle.

"Mm...Good. We've gotta concentrate here. I'm sure we'll find...something, at least." Her voice dropped slightly, but then she clenched her fists and managed another determined smile. "I'm sure of it!"

As she turned in the other direction, Garry stood there for a moment, looking at Ib a little in awe as she walked away, before turning and staring at the three possible doors he could go through just behind him.

The first was merely a broom closet, filled with cleaning supplies and other assorted items. He double checked to make sure that Rebekah wasn't somehow tied up deep in the back of the small space, before closing it a little in disappointment.

The second one showed little promise, but it was still an interesting search. It was a spare room with nothing but a neatly made bed, a pair of drawers and a slightly moist carpet that suggested it had been recently cleaned inside. While the drawers held nothing, the closet held an anatomical skeletal figure, and Garry almost shrieked out in fright when he opened the doors to see it standing there, staring at him from the holes where it's eyes should have been.

For a moment, Garry thought it could've been a real human skeleton, and that the Mcalister's were hiding a dark secret.

But that theory was all but eradicated when he realized that he was in fact standing in a guest bedroom, and if this had in fact been a real human being that the family wouldn't be stupid enough to hide it in an easily accessible cupboard.

But still, what an unnerving place to put such a thing...

Perhaps they weren't that well tuned with guests?

The last door was slightly ajar, and looking inside (from what he could make out in the darkness of the night) he saw a small green light from the screen of a laptop situated on a long brown desk. Various papers were strewn on the floor and left to be untidy, suggesting that the owner was either a hurried and busy man or simply wouldn't bother picking them up anytime soon.

The shelves were packed with clutter, and an uneasy musty smell prompted Garry to find the source, of which was a half eaten mustard and ham sandwich left on the desk to rot.

Garry rubbed his arms and shook his head in response to the vulgar scene.

While he was no stranger to clutter, this was beyond repair. The tenant of this room had made no effort to clean up after himself, and save for the creepy situation, such a sight sent chills cascading up his spine.

He gulped back a shaky retort, and covering his nose with his arm, he investigated the floor.

Most of the papers were about various kinds of topics about historic sites around the world and travel documents, the same with the books on the shelf.

That was, until he happened upon a small scrappy journal, much like his own, except this seemed to be bound in the skin of an animal instead of leather.

He curiously flicked through, his interest instantly piqued when the first image that met his eyes was that of a faded black and white photograph. The image was too blurry to make out, but it appeared to be a family.

Two shapes side by side in the background suggested parents, or perhaps guardians, while a visibly smaller shape in front was a child.

From her build and long, curly hair, it gave the impression that the child was female, and from the side the blurriness of the shot failed to capture, a small inquisitive eye stated back up at him.

He checked the back, and found the print date to be fairly recent, and he deducted that the family depicted certainly wasn't the Mcalisters.

He cleared his throat and went to continue flicking through the journal, when he heard a loud buzzing noise behind him.

He gasped in fright, afraid that the owners had come home and had caught him in the act, and were perhaps brandishing a chainsaw or other household weapon that had made such a frightening noise.

The noise had simply come from the laptop, however, and Garry sighed shakily in relief, walking carefully over and looking downwards at the screen.

A small tab had appeared on the screen, prompting Garry to open and take a look.

Despite such an action being so careless and rude, he almost mentally slapped himself in the face. The laptop was the perfect place to search, but the action hadn't even crossed his mind beforehand.

With a stab of guilt and driven by overpowering curiosity, he tentatively clicked open the folder.

What met his eyes made him reel back in horror, impulsively dropping the journal onto the messy floor and scattering it's contents like a pig that had just been slain and cut open for it's prize.

A painting stared back at him from the screen, dominated by the power of red and accompanied by a maliciously fowl grin. The Lady in Red continued to stare, and he backed up against the wall, clawing at the air in defense and desperately trying to keep a confused and frightened sob from escaping his lips.

Why? Why was this here of all places? Why did it always have to come back to Guertena? What had he ever done to deserve this hideous nightmare?

Why couldn't they just leave him alone?!

And then he suddenly heard Ib scream.

* * *

**R&R? Constructive criticism is appreciated as well :3**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: HELLO EVERYONE! I am now back with another chapter w'' And hoooo boy, this one is really really creepy. It's funny because I just had to compile and put it together because bits and pieces were scattered throughout various schoolbooks and on my phone and well, it's a little misshapen, just like Richard, so I thought why not name the chapter after the Misshapen Diamond painting?**

**That aside, I must urgently say that this might be triggering for some, because towards the end you'll see why. Read with caution, okay? Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Because this is where shit goes down ._.**

**~TB.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven, Misshapen Diamond**

"IB?!" Garry cried out, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He got to his feet and ran up the flight of stairs, desperate to reach her. _The Lady in Red, The Gallery…What if…What if…? Ib…!_

He found Ib collapsed to her knees, shards of glass surrounding her and exasperated sobs coming from her mouth. "Ib! Ib what happened…!?"

"I-I…I broke it…"

Garry now realised that the shards of glass actually belonged to a shattered picture frame, and he sighed in relief, kneeling down beside her.

The young girl shook violently, and Garry reassuringly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

On further inspection, he found her to be clutching what looked to be a photograph in her clean hand, and he curiously peered down to look.

The photograph was of Ib, her parents and the Mcalisters, sitting altogether on a plaid couch and smiling. There was an obvious gap in between Ib and the Mcalisters, but the nine-year old in this picture was leaning slightly to the left and smiling broadly, her crimson eyes widened a little in glee.

At the familiar image of his little friend, his heart skipped a bit and he gritted his teeth in denial of the nostalgic presence. Time was cruel, but the real Ib was right here, even if she looked older and couldn't remember a single thing about him.

Brushing it aside for now, he simply forced another patient and gentle smile. "Are you alright?" He cooed just as gently, his blood still racing from the adrenaline before.

Ib's sobs resounded, and it took a minute or two for them to subside enough for the words to come out. "She...She..."

"...?"

"She's not...t-there..."

"Who's not there, Ib?"

She gestured to the photograph. "R-Rebekah. I dont get it! I dont understand...! S-she was there when this was taken...She was sitting right beside me! S-So why..."

Garry's smile fell, and he sighed, gently taking the photograph from Ib and moving on to clean up the scattered glass.

The mess was relatively easy to get rid of, save for the smaller spectacles shining in the grey carpet, but he figured it best and hoped that the Mcalisters wouldn't see the damage.

They were in enough trouble as it was already.

"We should go." He concluded, after a fifteen minute scan of the rest of the rooms, only to come up short with an empty panties draw (Ib scolded him greatly for perving on her friend's nonexistant underwear) and a draw room centred with an eerie piano.

Ib was leaning against the nearby wall, her arms folded and he restitute silent. The older man dusted off his hands and went to stand beside her, when they suddenly heard a clicking noise outside of the window.

Silence was to follow, but what they had mistaken for clicking was in fact the sound of footsteps against gravel.

Somebody was coming.

Ib's eyes widened in pure terror, and Garry placed a shaking hand over her mouth. He too was quivering, but his sapphire eyes were trained in concentration.

The footsteps stopped momentarily, and the sound of jingling keys confirmed their dread.

Whoever it was, they were coming through the front door.

"W-We need to get out of here..." Ib whispered, looking about wildly for an escape route. The atmosphere was tense as the intruder closed the door behind them and began to make their way up the stairs.

Without a moment of consideration, Garry grabbed Ib's hand and pulled her into the nearest room.

Garry shoved Ib beneath the piano, then scrambled under himself, mentally berating himself a second later for his unrequited stupidity. The piano? Seriously? What the hell, Garry? What on earth were you thinking? If this guy turns on the light and sees us, its all over...

Ib was shaking obscenely beside him, and he wrapped an arm around her middle to hold her still, his hand clasped over her mouth once more.

The figure, hunched over and awry, made his way into the room.

Garry and Ib prepared themselves for the worst, but when the room didn't turn bright, the dread in their stomachs flooded to become despair.

The figure, whose breathing was ragged and husky as he walked, took a seat at the piano and cracked his knuckles. His creased work suit smelt like sweat and cigarettes, and Garry wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Ib bit her lip to stop a strangled whimper from escaping her, and Garry's hold grew tighter.

The melody was thick and haunting, filling the room with a smothering sense of melancholy. Garry thought he recognised the tune in a distant memory perhaps, but his mind was clouded with hostility.

The figure finished the melody with a resounding bang of his fingers against the keys, and he leaned back on the stool with a satisfied sigh. "Old Doll…" He mused, standing up and stretching, cracking a few joints in his back as he went. He turned to leave, before coming back around and reaching a hand underneath the piano.

Ib's breath caught in her throat, and Garry's hold was practically suffocating as the figure expertly flicked a switch affixed above them without looking their way. "I'll come and visit you now, my sweet…" He muttered, before shuffling out of the room.

Ib and Garry waited a few minutes before finally relaxing, sure that whoever that presence was had gone. Ib was shaking fitfully, and she curled into herself. Garry's body was close to hers, and it was warm and comforting in spite of the situation. He gently smoothed back her hair and cradled her close, keeping an ear out for the intruder's return.

"T-That was…"

Garry's attention snapped back to the girl, and she turned her face towards his. Their proximity made his heart skip a beat, and he shyly swept back his own fringe to take a better look at her. "Who was it…?"

Ib didn't seem to notice, and she sighed heavily. "Richard Mcalister. He's my…He's my psychiatrist."

Garry was confused, and he moved from underneath the piano, pulling Ib to her feet also. "Psychiatrist?" Their voices had lowered to careful whispers, and she nodded in reply.

"I'm…I'm a little bit…"

"A little bit…?"

They moved from the room, and carefully paced to the stairs, tuning their ears to any noises that seemed out of place.

"I've needed to see a doctor for a while, ever since-"  
"Shh."  
"Huh?"  
"Do you hear that?"

Ib listened.

"Hear what?"  
"Exactly…It's silent…"

"I certainly hear it." Richard Mcalister's voice suddenly sounded, and they turned on their heels to see him standing in the doorway, his face completely blank. Richard was a handsome man, with solid blue eyes and a mess of blonde hair that suited his pale face. He was taller than Garry, with a skinny yet steady build. His suit was crumpled and he looked forlorn and hesitant, like an underpaid movie actor ready to chuck a spasm attack as a result.

Nonetheless, there was something about the guy that freaked Garry out. Maybe it was the distinctive twitch his upper lip held, as if he was about to snarl, or the way his eyes trained on Ib's slender figure, or how those icy eyes finally came to a rest on Garry's own form.

Garry cried out in surprise, and Ib's eyes widened in response. In one hand Richard held a glass of wine, and suddenly his expression turned very serious. "Ib? What are you doing here? Who is this man…?"

Garry stood still, unable to speak from shock, and Ib looked down guiltily. She fumbled with her scarf, before reluctantly moving to meet his gaze once more.

"This is…This is Garry. We came here to look for Rebekah."

"Oh…is that so."

It wasn't a question, and the slight purr in his voice made Garry's protective senses flair up. He quickly took Ib's hand, an action that Richard rose his eyebrows at almost immediately as if in surprise, and managed to stutter, "U-Uh…W-We'll be out of…y-your hair now…N-No pun intended!"

Richard however, just smirked knowingly, and stepped forward, waving his hand in dismissal. "Now now, that's quite alright! It would be rude of me to dismiss guests now, wouldn't it?"

Ib was confused. Why wasn't he angry that they had broken into his house? "Uhm…M-Mr Mcalister…"

"What is it, Ib?"

"Please…please don't tell mom and dad…about Garry."

Garry's head snapped around to face her. What on earth was she doing?

Ib continued. "Garry's only here to help me. He's not a bad guy. I…I wouldn't want him to get in trouble because of me! He's been…looking after me, f-for a bit. But, he'll be gone once we leave, won't you Garry?"

Her older friend scanned her face for confirmation. There was something in her eyes that said, "Please don't worry about me, I'll be fine" however, there was another that was screaming, "We need to go. We need to leave. I don't like this. Garry…please help me!"

Richard tilted his head, scratched the light stubble on his chin, before kneeling down to Ib's level and offering his hand. "Ib, come with me. This man is a stranger. He means you nothing but harm. Don't you remember how we talked about this?"

Garry's own grip remained tight, and his voice caught in his throat. "H-Hey…"

Ib stared at Richard, and she looked down at the ground.

"He's only going to cause you trouble, alright? We'll go and look for Rebekah together…"

Ib recoiled, accidentally slapping the wine glass from his other hand. She pulled back and clung to Garry as the substance spilled onto the white carpet, staining it instantly. Richard remained momentarily level, before picking the glass up and looking at it with what looked like distaste. "Tsk. It's time then, isn't it? I suppose so…Because somehow…She's gone missing now…" He suddenly turned and smashed the glass on a nearby desk, turning to them with a sly grin and wielding it like a weapon.

"Come here, Ib."

Ib shrieked, and Garry swore as Richard swung the glass in their direction. Garry barely managed to awkwardly dodge before pushing him up against the wall, prompting Ib to run. She stumbled, before managing to right herself and sped downstairs. She tried the front door first, frantically pulling on the handle but surprised and confused that it wouldn't open. There was no lock for it to be opened, which meant that they were trapped inside.

She ran to try a window, whimpering loudly to find that it was locked too. A gurgled cry from Garry upstairs caused her to turn and yell, and there was a loud thudding noise. A moment later, Garry came leaping down the stairs, his eyes widened and a small cut on his neck.

"We need to go, we need to-"

"Everything's locked, Garry! We can't! We can't!"

"Damn…D-Damn it! We need to hide then, where do we-"

"IB." Richard's voice now rose an octave, and he stumbled awkwardly to his feet and down the stairs towards them. "YOU BETTER RUN, YOU LITTLE RABBIT."

Garry and Ib sprinted down the hall, before being cornered into the study, where a large opening where the bookcase should have been caught their eyes, and they made their way hastily towards it.

The hall lead downwards and it was dark. Darker than the room was even, and the narrow sight into a place unknown made Garry tremble anxiously. "L-Let's just-"

"Oh Ib, where are you?" Richard's voice could be heard from down the hallway, and the noise made Ib cry out accidentally in fear, revealing their location immediately.

"I don't enjoy little insects inside of my den. Oh won't you please come and say hello?"

"M-Move it!" Garry meekly shrieked, grabbing Ib by the shoulders and leading her down the flight of stone steps as fast as he could manage. The sound of their combined footsteps caused a resounding shudder around them, and the thick walls seemed to press against them as they moved.

Moving on impulse, not knowing where they were heading (more likely however to be caught in a dead end and having to face their attacker), the feeling of strained fear began to pound furiously along with their beating hearts.

They eventually came to a darkened hallway, lit by a single flame preserved in a candlestick looking stand affixed to the concrete wall. The orange glow cascaded dully through the alleyway, revealing a crossroads in their path.

On impulse Garry turned left, pulling Ib along after him, until they were plunged into darkness once more. After a few more minutes of running, Ib managed to cry out his name with a gasp. Garry, who was so caught up in escaping, failed to notice the strained breathing coming from his young accomplice. "Oh crap…Oh crap I'm sorry…"

Over the sound of Ib trying to catch her breath, the footsteps of Richard Mcalister were getting closer. Then his own voice ran out; "This is my domain, Ib. You and your friend are trapped! You have no way to escape, unless you want to be lost in this darkened tomb forever!"

Ib's breathing turned into a strangle of sobs, and pulling her gently around a corner, they were met with a dead end. "G-God…no…" Garry uttered, his eyes widening in disbelief. This was madness. They were suddenly on the run from a psychopathic maniac, when two hours before they had been perfectly fine. They had been smiling and laughing, but now the situation had turned to the worst, and Garry imagined he felt the same overwhelming sense of dread characters from horror movies felt as well.

If they remained where they were, they would surely be caught. There was no guarantee that Richard Mcalister was in fact going to turn up with a weapon in his hand, but if the chances were as such, Garry's own feeble build wouldn't be enough to hold him back for long.

And Ib had had enough…

Protecting her came first, though, as always, and on that thought, Garry turned to her and gently stroked her hair. He toned his voice down to a whisper, leant close to her ear and said, "We need a distraction, otherwise he'll find us, and we don't want that…! I…I have to leave you alone for a bit. But I promise, I promise I'll be right back. I'll be right back, Ib, and we'll get out of here soon."

Those very words filled Ib with a strange feeling of nostalgia, mixed with denial. "N-No…" She choked, gripping onto his shirt with shaky fingers. "D-Don't go…Don't leave me alone…"

Garry hesitated, but the footsteps were getting louder, and he simply gave a shaky smile, squeezed her hand reassuringly, and then rushed away into the dark.

Ib was left in silence, her ragged breathing the only thing keeping her still. She was propped up against her schoolbag, which pressed into the wall behind her. The length from the wall concealing her view around the corner wasn't very long, and she felt a little more or less suffocated from the effort.

She clamped a hand over her mouth and tried to keep her breathing as steady as she could, and in her way of concealing the noise, her tears continued to fall in silence. She was almost afraid that if they hit the floor, Richard would find her immediately, so she hastily wiped them away and managed to make a shaky stand.

The situation was incomprehensible, at best. Richard had always been kindhearted and warm. Never a frightful monster like he was acting now. And what was this place? Why was there a hidden…maze underneath his house?

Terrified thoughts of what he would do to her if he managed to catch her urged her to move from her hiding place, albeit hesitantly. She was surrounded by silence. Garry's footsteps were long out of earshot by now, and it made her wonder how big this place actually was.

Making her way back to the candlestick, she began to walk back up the stairs, only to find that the entranceway had been sealed shut. She gulped back another whimper, and looked about helplessly. Now they were locked in here with that creep…

Finding that she could take the candle down from the wall, she held the handle with ease and looked about reluctantly. Feeling a little more secure with the light source within her grasp, she plunged forward into the darkness.

The flame licked lucidly at the shadows on her face, causing them to dance in silence. Her footsteps made resounding echoes as she made her way slowly and carefully around corners of the maze. Her mind was racing with anticipation, her heart stopping every few moments when her brained tricked her into seeing faces in the dark.

After walking around for what seemed like an hour (but was a solid seven minutes), Ib almost failed to notice a large indentation in the wall that read, "G a l…y…th…s…way…" While most of the letters were worn, she figured it better than stumbling around in the dark any longer, and decided to walk the length of the way.

At first there was nothing, just empty space like before, until pictures frames of expertly painted pieces began to come into sight, hung on the wall and evenly spaced. The sight at first made her jump, and she stared around in confusion.

That was, until she recognised some of the works. "Guertena?" She muttered under her breath, stopping to read a plaque that spelled, 'Glass of Antipodes'. Stepping back, the hallway suddenly seemed to stretch out endlessly. Ib felt, no matter how far she walked, that she would never see the light of day again.

Her brain began to buzz, and she held back a gut-wrenching shriek. "No…no no no…No…" Realizing the dire consequences of the situation she found herself in, she turned to run, but a lit up figure somewhere down the hall caught her eye.

She rushed towards it instead, running past painting after painting after painting, their eyes seeming to give her mocking glares as she moved. By the time she reached him, her heart was pounding furiously, and she had dropped her candle along the way, but when she was met with the sight of fresh blood pouring from a wound on Garry's head, dying his normally pallid blue hair a sickening crimson, she finally managed to scream.

Her older friend was situated up against the wall in a sitting position, his head slanted on an uncomfortable angle and his eyes shut. Another candle burnt brightly beside him. His face looked peaceful, save for half of it being stained with the bloody mess, and she dropped to her knees, shaking fitfully as tears spilled down her cheeks. "Garry…! No…No! NO! NO!"

_Dead. Garry was dead. Garry was DEAD. GARRY WAS DEAD. DEADEADEADEADEADEADEADEAD-_

"I've got you!" Richard's voice resounded in her ear, and before she had time to react, she was yanked to her feet and grappled around the neck, being held aloft from the ground. "You…Ib you…You're a feisty one, aren't you…?"

She gagged, her vision swimming, and she struggled feebly in his grasp. The doctor let out a maniacal laugh, and she felt his hot breath on her neck, and his dirty finger nails digging into her skin. "No…no matter…It's going to be alright, Ib…It's going to be just fine…"  
His grip loosened, barely enough for her to let out a strangled cough, and he brought her figure up and around to eye level. Through the tears, his icy blue eyes burned fiercely into her own, and she uttered a small, frightened whimper. "What…what are you going to do with me…?"

Richard just stared, his mouth hung slightly agape, and when he saw Ib's gaze dart from Garry's body and back up to his face, his lips turned upward into a small grin. "This is good. This is really good…"

"W-Why…?"

"He got in the way, at first. That was, until I realized that he could take my stead. I wouldn't need to go with you. HE would do it instead! Imagine my luck! Isn't that just wonderful…Ib?"

The way he spoke her name, so affectionately, caused her to shudder, and a sudden burst of anger crawled its way up her chest and made way from the cold, cold fear. She hacked and spat in his face, sneering at him in defiance. "Go to hell."

Richard snarled in anger and pinned her up against a nearby wall, causing her to let out a wail of pain as her head collided with the concrete. He slammed her once more, before tightly holding her in place. "You insolent little brat…! And after all I have done for you…!"

"Y-You haven't…d-done anything…you monster…"

"You're right…I…I really haven't, have I? But that's okay…That's alright… I've done enough, and you'll do the rest for me, won't you?"

Ib felt overwhelmed and nauseous. She struggled feebly once more, but Richard just pressed his body into hers and smiled gently. Sweat had formed on his forehead, and in the faint candlelight the perspiration glistened slimily. He brought a finger up to stroke her cheek, before tilting her chin up and looking into her eyes. Ib heard his hand being brought downwards, and the buckle of his belt scraped against his knuckles as he fumbled around with something.

"You see…I was going to wait. I was also going to maybe keep you to myself…Your mommy and daddy wouldn't even know, not down here. But you see…"

For a moment, Ib feared the worst, and she writhed in rebellion. _Please. Please no. Not like this. Not with him. Not for him. Please, god, please…_

"She's always liked you better. You don't remember, but I know for a fact that she simply adores you." Richard brought his hand back up again, this time accompanied by a butterfly knife, and Ib wasn't sure what was worse. He pressed the flat of the blade against her cheek, and chuckled. "You'll go. You'll get her back for me. He will die, and she will live. I will have her back."

He then swiftly switched the blade around, and pulled up her wrist, slicing her open palm easily. Ib yelped in pain as fresh blood, as red as her eyes, welled from the newly craved wound, and he pushed her around to slam her hand onto a large painted canvas. She looked up to see it stretching across the wall, and her eyes widened in disbelief. "W-Why…:"

"Do this for me, and Rebekah will be free."

Ib screamed. There was a flash of blinding light, and she felt herself falling. White, static noise filled her eyes and ears and mind and lungs, echoeing with her resounding cries.

"Ib…!"

_IB!_

And then five words suddenly pulsed through her mind. Or were they being spoken? It was so hard to concentrate…

_Welcome to the Fabricated World._

And then she blacked out.

* * *

**FUCK. JFC THAT CREEPED ME THE HELL OUT. GAH. I'VE BEEN WATCHING TOO MUCH CORPSE PARTY. HELP ME.**

**R&R? Constructive criticism is encouraged too ^.^ No flames now~! :D**


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